Mimi's Black Rose
by xxSammySabotagexx
Summary: Hermione sat beneath her tree, eyes pointed towards the sky. Tears were running down her face, as she slowly whispered, "I'm going to die." :: HG/DM
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

When she was a little girl, her parents used to call her Mimi.

It was an odd nickname, but Hermione loved it. At the age of two, she couldn't pronounce her name right. 'Hermione' was just too long and difficult for a toddler to say . When asked, she would stutter or mispronounce it. In the end, she started to introduce herself as Mimi. It was short, easy to say. However, as she grew up, she thought the nickname sounded childish and unlike any name that a powerful witch would have. So, at the age of 13 she insisted that her parents call her Hermione. It had been that way since. Almost everything from her childhood had changed. Her friends and her hobbies. The one thing that never changed from her childhood, was her love of roses. She was unsure of where this obsession came from, but it was strong and she couldn't walk by a bouquet of roses without stopping to admire or even buy. Her favorite kind was _Black Magic. They were dark, almost blood red and just so beautiful. Nothing in the world seemed more important then that natural, earth born beauty._

_All of that changed on the day that the doctors told her she was going to die._


	2. Heavy Baggage

**((Have you ever had a story idea slam into your head while you were doing the most routine of things? That's where this came from. Please, review.))**

* * *

**Chapter 1::  
**_Heavy Baggage_

* * *

The war had ended. The world was starting to look like a better place for Hermione Granger. Many had fallen, their lives consumed by the hate and evil that once was. Those that survived had made a promise to each other on the that day. They promised to live their lives to the fullest to honor their fallen friends. Hermione had been the one to think of that promise. Everyone immediately following her example. She had been happy in the days that followed.

Having admitted the love he felt for her, Ron quickly made plans for their life together. Hermione, having realized that all she felt for Ron was snuffed out through time, told him that she wanted to remain friends. He fought her at first and said that they belonged together. It hurt her so much to see the pain in his eyes, but she couldn't stay in a relationship with someone she no longer felt for in that way. Not now, after all they had already lost in their lives. She knew it would have ended terribly. After many fights and words they regretted, Ron finally understood and bowed out gracefully.

Since then, Hermione had kept her promise.

Until the day she went to the doctors for a routine check up.

Having muggle parents, Hermione still went to yearly check ups with her regular muggle doctor. Every year it was the same. She was happy and healthy, going to live a long life. But on this fateful day, she knew something was wrong. He had taken much too long with her exam; asking her questions that he never asked before. It started with the bruise she had on her arm. Thinking it was from the battle a week before, she had said she bumped her arm. Still skeptical, he ordered a blood test.

She and her parents sat in the exam room for an hour. All the while Hermione was feeling nervous. When the doctor finally came in, his face was drawn, white. This didn't look good for her.

That was when she heard the words that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Hermione you have leukemia."

* * *

It's been a year since the day she was told she had cancer.

At first it had been painful and heart breaking. She cried with her parents and locked herself in her room for days. In a state of denial, she was frightened to face anyone. She was more afraid to face the truth. After all that she had been through, it was almost impossible to believe she would have to go out slowly, unable to truly fight. Sure, she went through treatments and several tests to beat the silent killer that was eating her up from the inside.

During the last year, her friends thought she would just take long vacations with her parents to celebrate a clear life ahead. In reality, her parents were taking her from hospital to hospital with hopes of saving her life. Each hospital she went to was much the same; all had told her that her cancer was too far progressed to really be cured. She had tried chemo, keeping her small pump hidden in her big shirts and jackets. Luckily, she hadn't lost her hair and didn't need to explain to her friends.

Now, as she was preparing to return to Hogwarts for the seventh year that she and her fellow classmates missed due to the war, she was out of options. Having also gone to wizarding hospitals, she had literally tried every venue that money could buy. Her cancer was just too far progressed. All they could do for her was make her comfortable, they had said.

Two years is what they gave her. Two years at the most and six months at the minimum.

No one knew aside from the doctors and her parents. She had wanted it that way. If Harry, Ron, or anyone else knew, she would be treated like a feather. She couldn't have it that way. She was better then that and she refused to back down. Yes, she was at peace with her cancer. Yes, she knew she was going to die sooner then everyone else. But, they were just turning their lives around. Harry had finally started to live a peaceful life without any death or shadows following him around. Hermione wasn't about to take away that little piece of hope he had growing in him. He and Ginny deserved to be happy.

So, as she stood looking in the mirror of her bathroom, she decided to pretend like everything was normal. She had months before any extremely prominent signs of her sickness showed. She would take those months and be as happy as she could; living life normally.

"Mimi? It's time to go." Her mother called to her from downstairs.

Her parents had started calling her Mimi again; both not wanting to let go of their dying little girl. Hermione knew it was their way of coping. She never corrected them anymore.

"Coming, mum." Her voice was normal, not shaking.

Grabbing her trunk, she checked her wardrobe again to make sure she looked nice enough. Since she stopped responding to chemo, she never had to carry the pump around anymore. That left her free the wear tighter clothes. Now, she wore a cute lavender sweater with a nice pair of black jeans; a charmed Black Magic rose in her hair for luck. The only sign of her advancing illness was the slight discoloration below her eyes, the purple bags that were starting to form.

Snapping away from her painful thoughts, she headed downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs were her wonderful parents. They'd grown closer in the last year, spending every minute together that they could afford to. Now, as she was going to school, they looked heart broken and sad. They didn't want her to go.

"Mimi, are you sure you want to do this? What if you have an episode?" Her mother was crying.

"I'm going to talk to Madame Pomphrey when I get there, Mum. I'll tell her everything so that she'll know what to do if that happens. I promise I'll be fine." She hugged her mother before turning to her father.

"Don't forget," he pulled her in for a fierce hug, "You promised to come home if you got too weak. Please, keep that promise."

Hermione started to get teary eyed as she watched her father start to sob. "I promise, daddy." She hugged him and her mother again, twice as hard as before.

"You'd better get going, Mimi." Her dad handed her a bouquet of Black Magic. Her favorite. "You'll be late."

Her mum kissed her on the cheek. "We love you, Hermione. Write to us everyday."

She smiled. "I will. See you soon."

With that, she grabbed her trunk and apparated to the train station.

* * *

Looking around, she didn't know what to do. Ordinarily, she would walk onto the train and save a compartment for her, Harry, and Ron. Now, as she looked around at all the students she knew returning for their final year, she was at a loss. Nothing was the same. The war had touched this platform, making it feel different. The last time she stood here she was going to her sixth year, happy as can be. Today she was dying,

"Mione!"

Hermione turned at the voice and smiled when she saw Ginny running towards her, nearly knocking her to the ground. "Hey, Gin!"

The excited redhead backed away and smiled, "We were waiting for you. When you didn't show up early like normal, the boys sent me out here to look for you while they saved out compartment. Come on," she grabbed her best friend's trunk. "Let's not keep them waiting."

They boarded the train and walked down the narrow hall to their compartment. Hermione slowed down behind Ginny, her breath running shallow. She hated it when this happened. At random times, she would grow tired and weak. It was just one of the few symptoms that were taking effect on her body at this stage.

A few doors up, Ginny walked into a compartment and out of sight, giving Hermione the opportunity to lean again the wall and gather her breath. This didn't last long, for a harsh bump sent her to floor in a heap. Turning to glare at the rude person that knocked her over, all she saw was a hand being held out to help her to her feet. Sighing, she grabbed the hand and held onto the wall to steady herself. She said a silent 'thank you' to the person before she looked up. When she did, she wasn't sure if she should glare or just collapse in surprise.

"What are you staring at, Granger?" Draco Malfoy's voice came out in a sneer.

She raised an eyebrow, "Nothing. I just didn't know you were returning to Hogwarts. I thought you hated it here."

"I do and not like it's any of your business, Mud--Granger," the word 'mudblood' was outlawed a year ago. "But this is part of my sentencing. Instead of getting sent to Azkaban the Minister decided to put me on house arrest and banned me from using any magic for a year. Along with that I had to come back to Hogwarts with the rest of my year and prove myself worthy of not getting my wand snapped."

She nodded, as if this all made sense to her. It did, somewhat, she supposed. "I see. Well, nice seeing you, Malfoy, I'd better get to my compartment."

Draco sighed as she started to walk away. "Granger?"

Hermione turned as she reached the door of her compartment, "Yes?"

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then settled for something else. "Don't go telling your friends about my reasons for being here. I don't need them rubbing it in my face."

"Very well." Her response was short. She really needed to sit down.

"Hey," he tried to get her attention again.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"You should get some sleep. Those bags look heavy." He smirked as he walked away.

Hermione froze. She didn't think anyone would notice her eyes yet. After all, they were that dark quite yet. Sighing, she decided to place a concealment charm on them for now on.

This was going to be a long year.


	3. From the Stomach to the Toes

**((Disclaimer :: I do not own Harry Potter. Just the plot.))**

* * *

**Chapter 2::  
**_From the Stomach to the Toes_

* * *

Hermione was tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. In the past year, the longest that she had needed to put on a care-free act was a few hours. Now, as the train ride continued, it felt like forever. From the moment she stepped into the carriage to see the smiling faces of Harry, Ron, Ginny, Dean, Luna, Seamus, and Neville, she had felt empty; hollow. It felt that, despite having met peace with her rapidly ending life, they were staring at her; almost as if they expected her to do a trick. It was definitely clear that she was imagining things. Deep down, Hermione knew this. But, knowing so still wouldn't stop the constant need to cover her face with her hands.

At home she didn't need to act. She could openly talk about her cancer or her feelings day to day. It was a life with contentment. One that, she now realized, was a stable environment. Sitting in the crowded compartment with Ron squashing her into the window, Hermione felt herself wondering what had possessed her to return to the school. A degree in magic wouldn't help save her life. What was so important that she had to leave her mourning and distraught parents to spend what could be the last few months of her life in class?

"Mione?" Harry tapped her on the shoulder, catching her drifting attention, "You're not talking much. How have you been?"

His lazy smile was on his face when Hermione looked his way, those beautiful green eyes were so at peace as his fingers drew circles on Ginny's knee, that Hermione felt her throat close up. Tears brimmed her eyes as the answer to her unspoken question filled her mind. _**This **_was why she returned. Her parents were great and she loved them dearly. But, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were her family too. If she was going to die, she wanted to have no regrets. Not spending time with her friends would have been the greatest regret of all.

She blinked away her tears quickly so he wouldn't notice. "I've been good, thanks, Harry. Went to visit America with my family last month."

"America?" Luna sat forward and looked over Ron's body as she spoke to Hermione. "Did you say America?"

Hermione nodded and smiled. Luna still had an aura of innocence surrounding her. She also noted how Luna's hand was clutched in Neville's.

"I love America! Nargles are very popular there, you know. I sure hope you were careful, Hermione." Her face was dead serious.

"I was. Kept my eyes open for them, I did." Hermione smiled again. She really did love this girl.

Luna smiled softly. "I'm glad. What did you do there?"

"We went to New York, Chicago, Hollywood, and other major cities. Mostly sight-seeing, really." She said in a it-wasn't-a-big-deal tone.

Luna sighed longingly, "Sounds like a glorious time."

Ron's snort caught Hermione's attention. "Yea, right. I'll bet that what Hermione isn't telling you is that her parents went to all the big shows and stores while she locked herself away in libraries reading bloody America stories."

Hermione couldn't stop her eyes from slipping into a glare. Even though they agreed to remain friends, he's been putting a lot of stress on her. She wanted to spend time with her friends while she could and he was doing his best to ruin it for her. While she glared, he went back to doing what he was doing before he spoke; eating chocolate frogs.

Hating his blow-it-off attitude, she stood and made her way to the door. "I'll be back, I'm going to get some air. It's suddenly began to feel stuffy in here."

No one called her back, but she did hear a scuffle followed by Ron's unmistakable voice shouting, "Hey!"

If there was one wish she could get, it would be so that she wouldn't get into any arguments while she was at Hogwarts. Those were simply regrets and guilt that she wanted to avoid as much as possible. Slamming the compartment door behind her, she headed to the left. She didn't really know where she was going, but didn't honestly care either. Her fingers lifted up and grazed the petals of her Black Magic that still sat in her ponytail. Her stress immediately drained away.

* * *

Draco sat across the seat of his empty compartment and watched the scenery fly by. The anger that rose within him upon hearing his sentencing a year ago returned with a fiery passion as he fiddled with the M ring on his thumb. Living without magic he could do; since he had several house elves at the manor who would gladly do magic for him in a heart beat. However, having to return to this sad excuse for a school was just preposterous! He had felt for sure he wouldn't even be allowed back! Though, upon hearing the outcome of his trial, Headmistress McGonagall had sent him a letter to return just like she did everyone else.

Growling, he slid farther down into the seat. It hadn't even felt good when he was presented his wand back this morning. He was able to finally do magic again, but he would have to do it at Hogwarts. All in all, that wasn't exactly a fair trade to him. Staring up, he fought the strangest urge to send a curse up to the sky. Somebody up there definitely hated him, so sending a curse up might make him feel better. Then again, it might make the person angry at him even more pissed off.

Letting his mind wander, Draco found Hermione Granger at the center of his thoughts. He hadn't been surprised to see her when she boarded the train. She was bookworm extraordinaire, after all. However, the one thing that did surprise him was the bags beneath her eyes. They were light in color and subtle, but he had spotted them anyway. After seeing them several times in the past when he would look in the mirror, he could recognize them anywhere: exhaustion. That was part of the reason he helped her up after knocking into her. Well, that and it was part of his sentencing. He had to be nice or he would get sent to Azkaban like his father.

Something did seem off about her, though. It was more then her not getting enough sleep, he was sure. From the moment he looked into her eyes, he could sense that much. Her normally bright, anxious brown eyes were now dull; haunted. At first it had thrown him off and he hadn't known what to say. Eventually, he fell back into routine and became the same rude Malfoy he always was.

But, Hermione didn't fall back into routine. If anything, she had been pleasant; talking to him like he was someone she spoke to every day. There had no malice or hate in her voice. There was just simple interest. She really did care enough to ask why he would come back to a place she knew he hated. He sighed, thinking she was the only one. Since the second he walked onto the train, he'd been avoided like the plague. Whispers and stares followed him at every turn. He'd been ostracized from the few Slytherin in his year that had returned and no one else wanted anything to do with him. And yet, there was Granger. She had spoken to him, not like he was a monster but an actual person.

Draco Malfoy had no idea what to make of that.

* * *

The door was open.

Relief washed through Hermione as she tested the lock on the girls' lavatory. After her little walk, she had gone back to the compartment long enough to grab her school robes. Her muscles were tired and her eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep the previous night. It never mattered how tired she was, she just never could get much sleep. When she did, she'd wake up with night sweats. There was just no way to win.

Stripping down, she washed her pale face in the sink before looking into the mirror. The discoloration beneath her eyes hadn't sunk in anymore, thank Merlin. After Malfoy's comment, she had thought they'd sunk in deeper since she left the house. It was a big relief to find they haven't. She just didn't have the tolerance to conceal them yet. Bending over to slide her skirt up, something caught her eye. Examining it further, she froze.

_Damn. _She thought. _I should have known. This always happens._

On her right hip, a big purple bruise was showing up on her skin. It was obvious to her that it was from her stumble when Draco Malfoy knocked into a few hours ago. In most people, bruises don't show up for days. For people with leukemia, bruises were easily gotten and show up quickly. They were also ugly, as Hermione discovered over the past year. She was just happy that her jeans and skirts would cover this particular bruise. It was much to big to bother concealing.

What disturbed her more was that the new bruise was sitting nearby the disfigured scar on her abdomen. The scar she received while being hooked up to the pump she was forced to wear for months. Groaning, she went back to changing. Her flat stomach was going to be so deformed by the time her time was up.

Satisfied with her appearance as she fixed her tie, she grabbed her clothes and headed back to the compartment. Hermione almost panicked when she saw that the majority of the train was empty. They had apparently arrived at the station while she was in the bathroom and she hadn't been paying attention to the sounds of feet walking off the train. She wanted to jog the rest of the way to the compartment, but she didn't let herself. It was easy for her to get tired, so she would need to save her strength; just in case she had missed the carriages.

No one was in the compartment when she arrived. Her bag was still where she'd left it, so she slid her clothes in and walked off the train with it slung over her shoulder. Just like she feared, the platform was empty. She couldn't even see the carriages anymore. With a sigh, she started walking in the direction of the school. It was almost impossible for her to believe that she had been so focused on her bruise that she had missed the carriages. That was just something Hermione Granger never did.

"Missed the carriages, Granger?"

Hermione jumped at the voice. Having been thinking she was alone, the soft and curious sound sent her heart racing. Of course, she also knew that voice anywhere. Upon seeing Draco walking behind her, she just gave a soft smile as she nodded and continued walking. His footsteps became hurried and he was soon walking next to her, meeting her pace.

The two walked in a comfortable silence before Draco finally spoke, "Why were you being nice to me?"

Hermione was so startled by his question that she actually stopped walking. Looking up, she met his shimmering gray eyes and did what felt right. She shrugged.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You just don't know?"

She shrugged again, this time with a humor filled smile playing on her lips. It was obvious the action was annoying to him.

He groaned. "You are the most frustrating witch on the planet. Why can't you bloody well answer the question?"

Again, Hermione shrugged.

"Well, to hell with you then!" Angry, Draco began to stomp off.

He didn't make it far before he heard heart-felt laughter echoing from behind him. Turning, he was surprised to see Hermione bent over at the waist, laughing herself to tears. For the longest time he just stood there, his head tilted to get a good look at her face. It wasn't very often that Draco had the pleasure of seeing true laughter. Polite laughter, sure. But, actual laughter that could be felt from the stomach to the toes? No.

As the witch wiped tears from her eyes, Draco had the urge to smile. Catching him off guard, he couldn't stop it from spreading across his firm face. The feeling was so foreign and new that he just left the smile in place until well after Hermione composed herself. Smiling back at him, Hermione patted his shoulder with affection before she continued her walk.

Was it just his imagination, or did he hear the soft words 'thanks, I needed that' directed to him from Hermione Granger's mouth? The world has gone topsy turvy.

* * *

The welcoming feast had been much the same as all of the years before. The only difference being McGonagall giving the speech instead of the late Professor Dumbledore. Hermione sat at her usual place, between Harry and Ron. They had apparently thought she had already gone ahead on the train. Hermione immediately saw the lie in their eyes. How could they possibly think she had gone ahead when her bag was still on the seat?

Ginny proved her right by slapping Harry and Ron over the head before saying, "Don't listen to them, Hermione. They are a bunch of liars. The boys got into a conversation about the latest riding broom and completely forgot." Guilt crossed over Ginny's eyes, "I'm sorry, too. If I didn't have Prefect duty I would have come looking for you."

Hermione smiled, "It's alright, Gin. I understand. Boys will be boys after all!"

The hall was dismissed and all the students stood. Her friends started to walk in the direction of the common room, but Hermione remembered there was something she had to do. "I'll meet you guys in the common room. I need to check on something."

Ron rolled his eyes rudely, "We know, we know. You'll be in the library so there will be no need to wait up. What else is new?"

Hermione stared at his retreating back with disbelief. What was wrong with the bloody buffoon?!

Harry stepped up and tapped her on the shoulder, much like on the train. "Would you like some company?"

The sudden need to really hug Harry overcame her and sent her into Harry's unsuspecting arms. Hermione loved how he was so caring. She was really not looking forward to losing that. After the initial shock wore off, Harry hugged her back fiercely. He had truly missed his best friend over the past year. Her visits never lasted more then a few hours each time as she was constantly vacationing with her parents. It was nice to finally get to hug her for more than a second.

Sighing, Hermione stepped back and tried to hide her teary eyes, "No, but thank you, Harry." She touched the side of his face, "You're the best friend I could ever ask for. I love you dearly. Never forget that."

Harry looked startled at the direction there conversation had taken, but he replied, "And I'm certain you know I feel the same way about you. Right?"

She smiled. "Right."

He nodded. "See you in the common room?"

Hermione nodded and walked past him and out into the hall. Instead of heading in the direction of the library, she did a u-turn and headed towards the Hospital Wing. She made a promise to her parents and had every intention of keeping that promise. Besides, she needed some back up just in case she had one of the episodes that come and go with her ailment.

_I hope Madam Pomphrey doesn't cry. It's always worse when they cry…_ She thought sadly as the doors of the wing came into view.

* * *

**((Please review!))**


	4. Midnight Stroll

**Chapter 3::  
**_Midnight Stroll_

* * *

The door to the infirmary was unlocked, the room dark and empty. At first, Hermione wasn't sure whether or not Madam Pomphrey was even there. The beds were made and the curtains pulled back. It was almost as if the room was just waiting for an injured or sick student to arrive. The only thing that was missing in the room was Poppy Pomphrey. Perhaps she had already gone down to bed for the night. After all, seeing a student in her hospital on the first day practically never happened. Generally students didn't hurt themselves until Quidditch started; or classes for that matter. Getting off of the train or the boats? Not so much.

Hermione walked into the center of the dark room, using her wand to light her way. Stumbling over a loose stone in the floor, she called out. "Madam Pomphrey? Are you in here?"

Silence followed her voice, not even an echo of her words filling in the space. It was almost creepy in the infirmary at night. Sighing, she decided that the Mediwitch had already gone to bed for the night. That thought troubled Hermione. It took a great deal of courage to even walk into the room. The possibility of her doing it again tomorrow was slim at best. It was hard enough telling people she was going to die; the attempt was almost impossible to build up to. Hermione was strong, yes, but she didn't think she was strong enough to do this again tomorrow.

A shuffle of feet caught Hermione's attention as she turned to leave the room. Turning her head, she saw the light in Madam Pomphreys office turn on; followed by the witch walking into the room in her bed robes. Hermione felt bad suddenly. It turns out that the witch was in bed after all.

"Miss Granger?" Surprise lit Pomphrey's eyes. "Hermione Granger, what are you doing here when you should be in your common room? Are you injured? Do you need a Sleeping Draught??"

Hermione smiled as the witch's voice went from scolding to concern. "No, I'm not injured, Madam Pomphrey."

"Then what are you doing here?" She folded her arms across her chest, trying to look stern and failing miserably. The woman was far too caring to look stern.

Taking in a deep breath, Hermione prepared herself for what she was about to say. "There's actually something I need to tell you. I need your help in case something happens."

The concern won out over Pomphrey's face. "What is it, Dear? Are you ill?"

Swallowing over the lump in her throat, Hermione nodded her head. "Yes, Madam Pomphrey, I am." Closing her eyes against the tears, she took in a deep breath. "I have leukemia."

Hermione opened her eyes as the silence continued. Madam Pomphrey looked petrified, standing completely still with a glazed over look in her eyes. Hermione could feel the dread circulating through her heart. She knew this would happen. It was hard enough for her to believe at first, how could she expect anyone else to understand?

The silence began making her feel uneasy. Even her tears had dried up as the time passed. "Madam Pomphrey?" Her voice shook slightly. "Please, can you say something?"

She watched as Poppy snapped herself out of it and quickly signaled for Hermione to take a seat, "Oh my, dear, I am so sorry! Here, please sit down!"

Hermione did so and felt Pomphrey sit next to her. "How long have you known, dear?"

"About a year. I found out a few weeks after the war. My parents took me to a muggle doctor for a routine checkup. He ordered a blood test and when the results came back he broke the news to us." Her mind washed over that painful day where her world was ripped out from underneath her.

Poppy was silent for a few moments before she asked, "If you don't mind me asking, what type of leukemia do you have?"

Hermione tried to remember the name. "The doctors called it Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia. It attacks the body slowly and lasts longer then other leukemia." At least, that's exactly how the doctors put it.

Pomphrey nodded, "So you needed me to know so I could give you your potions. That won't be a problem, we'll just set up a time everyday for you to come see me."

Hermione shook her head and looked at the old witch sadly, "No. That won't be necessary."

Pomphrey raised an eyebrow, "Why not?"

This was always the worse part for her to say. So, she sighed and bit her tongue. "Because I've stopped responding to treatments."

The horror that crossed the Mediwitch's eyes was enough to make Hermione look away and onto the floor. She'd seen that look before. It was the same look her mother had when the doctors brought them the terrible news a few months back. Pomphrey stood up and started pacing. It was obvious to Hermione that the wheels were turning in the woman's mind.

"That's not possible! There must be something you can do. I'm certain I can whip up a few potions for you to try." Her voice was hurried, causing her to speak really fast.

Hermione just shook her head, "I've gone to St. Mungo's and just about every other muggle and wizarding hospital in the world. They've all said the same thing. All there is for me to do now is except it and try to make peace with it."

"But, dear," Poppy sat down again and grabbed her hands, "You can't just allow them to say that. You mustn't give up! There has to a be miracle floating around out there meant for a spectacular woman like you!"

Hermione felt her heart clench at the woman's words. She recognized this look too. It was the denial look. Hermione experienced that herself. "Thank you, Madam Pomphrey."

That's when Hermione surprised the witch. Instead of just holding her hand like she was doing a moment ago, she hugged her tightly. It's only so often that a person can find people that care as much as her friends and family do. Hugging was the best way to show how much you appreciate them without trying awkwardly to put it into words. Poppy didn't freeze or comment on the inappropriate affection. She just hugged the girl back, her heart crying for her. There were only so many students that Poppy could honestly say she liked. Hermione Granger was one of them and it was almost impossible for her to believe that such a magnificent person would be given a death sentence. Especially when she had so many years in front of her.

They pulled away a moment later, Poppy wiping tears from her eyes. "What did you need me to do, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shrugged, "I just need you to know, just in case I have an episode."

"What kind of an episode?"

"Sometimes I'll collapse, pass out, or get really sick for a short period of time. I just need you to make sure no one suspects anything."

The old witch looked at her suspiciously, "What do you mean suspects?"

Hermione began to fidget, "You see," she scratched her head and averted her eyes, "No one knows I have cancer except for my parents and you."

Pomphrey couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Miss Granger!"

Hermione didn't like the way Pomphrey said her name. "I know, Madam Pomphrey. I should tell them." Tears refilled her eyes, "But, I can't. They're all so happy and care-free now that the war is over. I don't want to take away the peace they all feel."

"Hermione." Poppy shook her head, "It won't take away their peace. Yes, it'll worry them and possibly break their hearts. But, how do you think they will feel when they find out farther down the road? When you aren't even able to do anything but lay there and die?"

Hermione looked away, knowing she was right.

"Now," Pomphrey crossed her arms and looked stern again, "Tell me the real reason."

Hermione looked up, her eyes wide and confused.

"Don't give me that look." Pomphrey stared into Hermione's far too innocent eyes.

"You know just as well as I do that there is another reason you don't want them to know."

Hermione had to look away again. Yes, there was another reason, but she never told anyone. To be honest, she barely liked thinking of it herself.

"Hermione?" Pomphrey was all business.

Sighing, she mumbled. "I don't want to be a victim."

"Sorry?" Pomphrey tilted her head, "I don't believe I heard that, can you say it a little louder please?"

"I don't want to be a victim." Hermione said, a little too loud.

Pomphrey looked surprised. "Hermione, you being a cancer patient does not make you a victim."

"That's not how I see it." She touched her Black Magic. "I can't even fight what's killing me. All I can do is sit around and let it happen. That makes me a victim."

"No, that makes you brave." Pomphrey shook her head and stood, "From the moment they hear they have cancer, most people just lay around at home until they die. What did you do? You traveled the world looking for answers. And, even after you're told there is no hope, you return to school. You went back to your life and that takes courage."

Hermione believed the woman's words, but she still wasn't sure if she'd be able to tell her friends yet. That much is going to take time. Standing, she gave the old witch one more hug. "Thank you again, Madam Pomphrey."

Poppy hugged her back. "Of course, dear. Come to me if you ever need to talk to someone."

Breaking away, Hermione walked to the doors and threw a sad smile over her shoulder. As she reached the door and opened it wide, she heard Poppy ask, "How long, dear?"

Shrugging, Hermione replied, "Six months to two years. They say it varies with every person." And with that, she shut the door behind her and headed to her common room.

Poppy, on the other hand, thought to herself. _'Six months to two years. Alright, that gives me two years to come up with a cure.'_

* * *

The Slytherin common room had not changed since the war.

Draco Malfoy sat on one of the green couches, staring at the fire. His mind was lost amongst the flickering flames and withering smoke. No one else in the common room payed him any mind and he liked it that way. As far as they were concerned he was bad news. He was the guy who no one could trust. He was the monster. After he was arrested, along with his father, he lost all of the respect he had worked to gain at this school. None of the younger students were afraid of him and all of his so called 'friends' hated his guts. The only one that didn't was Blaise Zabini and he had decided to not return to Hogwarts. Instead, finishing his education at Durmstrang.

If given the option, Draco would have gone with him. But, Minister Kingsley wouldn't allow that to happen. No, the Order member wanted him to prove himself. Malfoy's never had to prove themselves. They had always been on top and that was the way it was supposed to always be. Now, after the war and the Dark Lord had dragged their name through the dirt, Draco was the one who had to fix it. His mother couldn't care less. Ever since the war she'd been volunteering for charities and war victims. What self respecting Malfoy did such a thing?

His mother, that's who and he loved her for it. She, at least, was able to pick up the pieces and do something good with her life for a change. And while Draco didn't understand that, he was proud of her. It takes a lot of courage to face the world but she was doing just fine. Her son, however, preferred to sit on the sidelines and not have to face the world. He valued his pretty little face too much.

The hours trickled by and before Draco even realized the room was empty and silent, the clock above the fireplace struck midnight. Startled from his thoughts, Draco looked around and let out a sigh of relief. He didn't have to worry about younger children making fun of his obvious discomfort. Flopping backwards, he seriously considered going to bed—though, he didn't feel the least bit tired. The room started to feel uneasy, like it was judging him. He needed to get out of there. Now.

* * *

Cold air hit her legs, causing Hermione to jump up in her bed. Her body was trembling as she completely awoke from her fitful sleep. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she looked around at the darkened room. All of the beds were full of sleeping girls and the light of the moon was shining bright into their windows. Judging from where the moon was now sitting, Hermione deduced it was around one in the morning. Looking down at herself, she groaned and got out of the bed, trying to not trip over the blankets weaving themselves around her legs in the process.

She nearly squeaked as the cold wooden floor touched her bare toes as she walked across the floor towards the lou. Switching on the light, she quietly shut the door behind her and walked to the mirrors. Just like every night in the past year, Hermione was drenched in sweat. Her tank top and shorts clinging to her every curve. She really hated waking up every night in such a state. Even her hair was damp with moisture. Sighing, she pulled a hair tie from around her wrist and tied her long curly hair into a knot on top of her head, loose wet curls falling down into her face. Luckily, she had thought ahead and placed two outfits next to the sink before she went to bed a few hours prior. One new set of pajamas and one pair of jeans and a sweater.

A symptom of her diagnosis, Hermione woke up in reoccurring night sweats almost every night. It was bad enough that she could never get much sleep; tack on the fact that when she does sleep her cold night sweats would wake her back up. It was one of the few symptoms that she was having a hard time living with. That and the constant feel of exhaustion.

Washing her face off, she tried to look at her options. At home, she would normally get new pajamas and just go back to bed. She didn't think she could so that here. It just didn't feel the same. So, instead of trying to tackle the impossible, Hermione came up with a plan. When she was first diagnosed, she had made a list. It was a simple list of what she wanted to do before her time was up. Tonight felt like the best night to do one of those things.

Sliding on her jeans and white sweater, Hermione tip-toed out of the dorm and headed down the stairs to the common room. Her boots were sitting next to the couch, so as she was sliding them on she tried to think of the best next course of action. The tools she would need tonight were up in the boys' dormitory. There was no doubt that if she walked up there one of the boys would wake up and rumors would spread immediately. Besides, what she needed was in Harry's trunk and she didn't think Ginny would appreciate her best friend sneaking around her boyfriend's bed at night.

So, wand in hand, she whispered, "Accio Marauder's Map."

Silently praying it would be quiet and not awaken the boys, she smiled as the map came flying down the stairs and into her hand—no sound following it. Opening the map, she said the required, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The words appeared, followed by little pictures of names. According to the map, Filch was at the other side of the castle. If she hurried, she could make it out without him catching her. Now, all she needed was the broom.

"Accio Firebolt." The fast flying Firebolt came soaring down the stairs. She barely managed to catch it before it flew straight into the fire. Hermione was certain Harry wouldn't forgive her if she trashed his favorite broom.

Satisfied, she gave one last good look at the map before closing it and heading out the portrait hole. Making her way through the darkened corridors, she tried to stay calm. It was no secret Hermione Granger hated flying. It was one of her worse fears. And it was the one she would try to tackle tonight.

* * *

'_Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.' _Hermione kept chanting to herself as she stood in the middle of the Quidditch pitch with the map in her pocket and broom in her hand. She remembered how to mount it and get it hovering, she was suddenly realizing she didn't know how to accelerate or stop.

'_I can't do this! What if I fall!' _Her legs started shaking as she held the broom out in front of her.

"What the bloody hell are you doing out here?"

She screamed, a hand clamping over her mouth from behind. "Bloody hell, Granger! Did you want to wake the whole castle?"

Her heart started to return to it's normal rhythm. It was just Malfoy. Shaking her head, she let out a sigh of relief as his hand moved away from her mouth. Turning his direction, she noted he too had his broom with him. It looked like she wasn't the only person out for a midnight stroll.

"I repeat," he said, crossing his arms. "What are you doing out here?"

She shrugged and leaned against the broom, "Same reason you are, I imagine."

He rose an eyebrow, "Flying?"

She nodded.

"You hate to fly."

He sounded so a-matter-of-fact that Hermione was surprised, "How did you know that?"

He chuckled slightly, "We're in the same year. We were in the same first year flying lessons as kids. You hate flying. Besides, it's not like it's a secret."

Hermione nodded her head at that. Whenever Harry, Ron, or Ginny would fly she would adamantly put her foot down and go to the library. "Fair enough."

Draco watched her turn her back on him and examine the broom. He smirked in her direction. "You have no idea what you're doing do you?"

She didn't say anything, didn't respond. She just kept looking at the broom, almost like she was expecting it to fly itself.

He knew what he was going to say even before he said it, but that didn't stop him from being shocked at his own words. "Do you need help?"

Her back jerked upright, her head whipping around his direction. "Are you offering?"

He wanted to say no, that it was just a joke. But, he didn't. Hell, he didn't even think he could. "Why not?"

Hermione placed her hand on her hip and pretended to think of reasons why he wouldn't help her. "Well, let's see. You hate me, for one."

He nodded. This was true.

"We've never been civil."

Again, he nodded.

"I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin."

Another valid point; he nodded.

"Oh yea, and I'm a muggleborn."

That was such an obvious fact he didn't even pause before he nodded his head.

Hermione looked at him confused. "So, why are you offering?"

"Does it look like I have anything better to do, Granger?"

She thought about that and eventually just shook her head. He looked down right bored, to be honest.

Draco shrugged, "So, do you want help or not?"

* * *

**((Please review!!))**


	5. Just a Leaf

**((Props to my awesome beta LynZann!! You rock!!))**

* * *

**Chapter 4::  
**_Just a Leaf_

* * *

"Place your hands here, to start off with."

Hermione fought the urge to giggle as Draco straddled the broom behind her, his hands covering her own as he placed them in the right position on the handle. He was so close she could feel his warm torso pressing against her back. Her giggles caught in her throat as his scent filled her mind. In all of the years she had known him she had never noticed that he smelled so… tantalizing. Just the mere knowledge of that sent her off balance for a second. She really didn't need any form of attraction right now—especially to Malfoy of all people.

Sudden discomfort filled her and one of his hands lifted and pressed against her stomach. It was a pleasant tingling feeling that sent her senses into overdrive; hence, her discomfort. "Uh, Malfoy?"

"Hm?" He asked as he increased pressure on her stomach; his torso pushing against her back and causing her to bend forward.

"What, praytell, do you think you are doing?" Her voice was low, breathy; a fact that infuriated her to no end.

"What do you think I'm doing, Granger?" Draco asked his mouth next to her ear.

Hermione turned her head and raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

She watched as his eyes rolled and a smirk lit his face. "Oh, please, Granger. This is not a seduction. I'm just trying to get you to bend forward. You know, so you can prepare to kick off?"

The disbelieving snort that came out of her nose would have embarrassed her if it hadn't been towards Malfoy. "Then why didn't you bloody well just tell me that?"

His body was no longer against hers and his hands disappeared from view. Turning her head, she saw that he had merely stepped back. "You asked for me to help, so I was helping. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Oh, trust me," she was proud of her voice; it was strong and full of confidence. "You would never have any effect on my knickers."

He raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. Instead, he walked to stand in front of her, "Right, now just tilt forward and kick off from the ground hard."

Letting out the breath of air she hadn't known she'd been holding, she prepared herself to kick off. Her knees shook as she bent over. Closing her eyes, she kicked off from the ground as hard as she could. At first she wasn't sure anything had happened. It still felt as if her feet were on the ground. Sighing, she figured it just didn't work and opened her eyes to ask Malfoy what she did wrong. What she saw caused her heart to stop beating her mind to freeze.

Draco laughed as he saw her face contort and her mouth open up into an inaudible scream. She was only five feet off the ground and yet she looked beyond horrified. Shaking his head, he stepped forward, lifting his hand to rest it on her quivering knee. He might hate the muggleborn, but he couldn't stand to see a woman close to tears and scared out of her mind. If he was anything at all it was a gentleman when it was appropriate.

"Calm down, Granger."

She could hear the humor in his voice. "I'm going to fall, I'm going to fall, I'm going to fall."

"You're not going to fall." A sudden sensation pulled at his heart. It recognized it as concern, but brushed it off as a reflex. "Even if you did I'm standing right here. You wouldn't hit the ground."

Hermione froze, distracted by his words. "You'd catch me?"

"Sure." He shrugged. "Besides, it wouldn't look good for me if you fell from extreme heights to your death. They'd very well try and blame me."

She let out a nervous laugh, "Yes, and we certainly wouldn't want that."

Draco was about to retort, but stop when he noticed the look on her face. She was serious. At first he had thought she was kidding. How very odd that she would be concerned about him.

"Malfoy?"

What exactly did it mean, if she was concerned about him?

"Uh, Malfoy?"

Did he even care if she was?

"DRACO!"

Her scream snapped him out of his thoughts, snapping his head to her face. "What?"

"What now?" Her voice shook, making her sound younger then she was.

Chuckling, he grabbed his broom and flew up to meet her. Once his body was next to hers, he sat back, taking his hands off the broom. Hermione watched with disbelief. She could barely stand to sit on the broom while clutching it for dear life. Sitting on it while it's off of the ground without holding on didn't even seem logical! Adjusted her sweaty hands, she turned her head in his direction and waited.

"How high did you want to go?" He asked all business.

Looking to the ground, she tried to think. It would seem that being up in the air was not only scary, but mind numbing as well. She was already five feet in the air. Why go higher?

"Granger, sometime tonight would be nice." Draco put his hands behind his head in a reclining position.

She made a quick decision, knowing she'd probably regret it later. "I want to go higher."

Draco smirked, "How high?"

Hermione turned a wicked (and to Draco, an extremely sexy) smile his way, "As high as you can take me."

For a moment or two Draco was dazed by that smile. It played tricks on his mind and did something strange to his heart. Trying to collect himself, he looked away and counted down from ten. His heart began to slow and his muddled thoughts realigned themselves. Once he was sure he could think properly, he looked back up slowly. He wanted to be sure that smile was gone. Much to his relief, it was; a confused and concerned expression taking its place.

"Malfoy?" She looked into his clear, crystalline eyes, "Are you feeling all right?"

Draco nodded his head, possibly a little too erratically. "Of course I'm all right, Granger. Why wouldn't I be?"

She slightly recoiled from his venomous voice, not liking how he went from pleasant to rude so quickly. "You just looked wounded for a second."

Smirking, he lowered himself to the ground, "I think we should postpone the flying lesson for another sleepless night, Granger."

Still confused, she nodded her head. "Ok. But, I have just one request."

He feigned boredom, "What now, Granger?"

She smiled sheepishly, blushing slightly, "Can you please tell me how to get down?"

Caught off guard, Draco felt the dire urge to laugh at himself. How could he have been so bloody daft? Here she was, floating five feet off the ground and with no idea what she was doing. Of course she would need help. Instead of giving in to such a bizarre notion, however, he just smirked and told her how to lower herself to the ground. "Just lean forward more and you'll lower down. When you feel your toes touch the ground, dismount the broom."

Doing as she was told, she felt herself get closer to the ground. The minute her foot hit, she lifted her leg to hop off the broom. Unfortunately, she misjudged the distance and stumbled, falling backwards with nothing to grab onto to save herself from hitting the ground. A gasp flew out of her lungs and she felt all her weight falling back. Just as she registered the thought of her receiving yet another disgustingly large bruise, she closed her eyes for the pain.

Nothing happened.

Instead, she felt a pair of strong arms circle her waist from behind, catching her before she fell. Shocked, her eyes flew open and looked at the face above her. It appeared that she wasn't the only one who was shocked by his actions, for his face held the same surprise that she was sure hers did. Despite the fact that this was probably a very awkward looking embrace, Hermione couldn't bring herself to move. Draco couldn't seem to stop looking into her deep, soulful eyes. All he could think about as he stared into her chocolate orbs was how sad and disturbed they look .There was something painful and sad beneath those eyes and he wanted to know what it was. Nothing should be able to disturb such a pure soul like that.

Realizing the thoughts that just flew through his head, Draco snapped himself out of it and quickly lifted Hermione to her feet. Taking a step away from her, he looked everywhere except for at her face. Seconds passed, neither of them knowing what to say. It's not every day that you spend an hour in the middle of the night with your sworn enemy. It's even more abnormal that it would end in one person holding the other.

Clearing her throat, Hermione finally broke the awkward silence, "Well, uh, thanks for the help. You should probably get some sleep. Long day tomorrow with classes and all."

He frowned, "Me? What about you? You're the one with bags under your eyes. If either of us needs sleep it's you.

Sighing, she tried to think of a way to explain without giving anything away. "I haven't been sleeping well. Stress with this being our last year and all."

Draco could tell that she was lying. What he couldn't tell was whether or not she just didn't want him to know, or if it was something she was keeping from everybody. Deciding to not question her on it, he said, "Well then, what are you planning on doing through the night?"

Hermione smiled at his question, "Are you asking me because you care, or are you trying to weasel me out to filch?"

Draco just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "I'm not a snitch."

Hermione gave him a disbelieving look. She, in fact, knew that he was a snitch. After all, he had snitched on her, Harry, and Ron one more than one occasion.

He noticed her look and sighed. "Fine," he gave in with a huff, "I'm a snitch. But, I wasn't planning on giving you up to Filch tonight. Besides, I'd get in trouble too. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly out here with some form of permission. In fact," he decided to spill the fact he knew would convince her he was serious, "it's against my probation of sorts. I'm not allowed to break any rules. If I break rules, I'm out and off to Azkaban."

Hermione watched his eyes as he spoke. When people would say you can tell the truth about someone by looking into their eyes, Hermione never believed them. However, from the moment she was told she was going to die she paid closer attention to the little things in life. And it's true, if you know what to look for; it's really easy to see the real person beneath the mask. What was hiding behind Draco's mask? She wasn't sure yet, but it wasn't the act he was putting forth.

Though, despite all that, she could tell he was telling the truth. So, there wouldn't be any harm in him knowing what she was going to do through the night. "Well, I was just going to sit by the lake."

He couldn't keep the skepticism off of his face, "Sit by the lake? Why would you voluntarily do that?"

"Because it's one of the most peaceful things you can do at night," she responded honestly.

"I don't understand." And, he really didn't.

Sighing, she scrambled for the way to describe what she was trying to say. How does one put something so beautiful and calming into words? "You see," she scratched the back of her neck and looked around.

When she spotted a crumbling leaf on the ground, she bent over to pick it up. If she couldn't tell him, she would show him the best way she could. "It's like this leaf."

Draco wrinkled his forehead in confusion. He couldn't understand her analogies. "It's just a leaf."

Hermione let a small, sad smile lift up her lips. She couldn't blame him for not understanding. It took her receiving a death sentence to understand it herself. "It's only just a leaf if you let it be."

Frustrated, he shook his head, "You're not making any bloody sense."

Her eyes turned soft as she pulled her wand out from her jeans pocket. Closing her hand over the leaf, she felt it crumble within her palm, "Everything in the world is in transition. There's more than meets the eyes."

Lifting her wand, she waved it over the hand clutching the dry leaf. A white light shined within her palm, catching Draco's eyes as he watched bemused. As she opened up her hand, the leaf no longer sat in her palm. In its place was a rose; one that Draco had never seen before. It was a darker red than the regular roses his mother had scattered around the house. Those roses were meant to liven up the place; to make it homier. These seemed to be meant to darken up the mood. But, despite its darker petals and black center, it was beautiful in its own way, he supposed.

Hermione lifted the rose head with her finger tips and held it out in front of her, angled towards Draco. "Me sitting beneath the tree is like that leaf appeared. To normal eyes, it's just a quiet place that holds nothing but boredom. But, to different eyes," she grabbed his hand and sat the rose in his palm, "It can be the most beautiful and wonderful place in the world."

As he stared at the rose now sitting in his palm, Hermione smiled again and walked away. Making sure the map was in her back pocket and broom in her hand, she headed towards her tree. She knew he wouldn't get it. It's almost impossible for someone with everything ahead of them to see. If someone's world suddenly got cut away, it's easier to see. After all, the world seems so much smaller and so much more precious. Eventually, he would notice that she had walked away. Knowing him, he would just shrug and drop the rose before he went back to his common room. If he did, she would pick it up on her way back to her room. If he didn't he would notice that the rose head won't die. It would last forever; even after she died.

Draco continued to stare at the delicate rose in his hand, Granger's words repeating themselves in his head. No matter how many times he analyzed it he still couldn't understand. To him, it was all the same. Just a dumb leaf that crumbled easily. Sure, she transfigured it into a rose. Anyone could do that though! Snapping his head up, he had meant to ask her to explain herself. When he saw she was already clear across the grounds, he felt like an idiot. For all he knew she had said that to keep him thinking for days and days.

_'Well, too bad for you, Granger!' _He thought, his smirk returning_. 'I won't think about this ever again!'_

Turning around, he headed back to his common room, the rose still in his palm. He might not want to think about it again, but he also couldn't bring himself to drop the rose. It was dark and lonely; just like he was.

* * *

As Draco reached the doors without looking back, Hermione sat beneath her tree. Had anyone been looking, they would've noticed the tears falling from her eyes. During the day she had to keep it together; crying would show everyone that something was wrong. She just wasn't ready for explanations. Night time, beneath her tree by the lake, she didn't have to be so calm. She could cry without anyone seeing.

Pointing her eyes towards the starry sky, she couldn't stop herself from whispering into the wind, "Please," her voice caught, emotion thick in the sound, "Save me."

Deep down she knew… no one was listening.

* * *

**((I'm trying something a little different with this story, so I hope you all like! Please review!))**


	6. Just Because

**((Again, props to my awesome beta, LynZann! Enjoy everyone and please review!!))**

* * *

**Chapter 5::  
**_Just Because_

* * *

Draco watched her the next day. From the moment she walked into the Great Hall with her idiotic friends, he watched. He couldn't help it. There was something about her that would drag his eyes in her direction. Was it her smile? The way her words sounded throughout his head all night the night before? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he needed to see her; to examine her as she moved or spoke. This was _not_ an attraction, he was sure. It was merely a fascination. Hermione Granger had just fascinated him with her words.

In all the years he had known her, he had never heard her speak like she had the night before. Maybe she spoke like that all of the time with her friends and he hadn't known it. Or perhaps that's who she truly was, yet hid it from the world. Either way, it had caught his attention in a web. A web that, he found, he couldn't break out of. Even during classes, when he should have been paying attention to what the professor was saying, he would find himself fixated on her expressions; the way her lips would pout if she got confused, or when she would bite her lip to hide the smile that proved she knew the answer. Every single one fascinated him.

Something very odd was happening to Draco Malfoy. He hated Hermione Granger. Everyone knew it and no one doubted it. So, why was he thinking so hard on what she had said to him about that damn leaf? Why was it that every time he saw her, instead of wanting to curse her, he just wanted to nod at her as she passed by? And, for the love of Merlin, why did he still have that bloody rose in his robes?

* * *

Hermione knew he was watching her. She could feel his gaze on her back at breakfast and sense his eyes during classes. The hair on the back of her neck would rise every time he passed her in the hallway. Her cheeks would burn with each smirk he sent at her during lessons. Even during lunch, when she, Ginny, Harry, and Ron sat on the grounds she could _smell _him. That deep aroma she breathed in the night before seemed to shadow her at every turn. Everywhere she went she was _aware _of him.

How did she feel about that?

It began as admiration. She admired that her words were on his mind; the words that were meant to keep him thinking. There was no doubt that he would understand some day down the road. For now, it would just confuse him and keep him thinking. However, as the day went on the admiration turned to confusion. Most people would grow tired of looking at the same person every minute of the day. But, not Draco Malfoy; no, he seemed perfectly happy looking at her with every second that passed. Why? She knew he wasn't attracted to her. That was just impossible to even consider. Perhaps, he was just fascinated.

Yes, that was it. He was fascinated with the way she spoke. In all the years they had known each other, all he had heard from her mouth were insults and spells thrown his way. For her to speak wisdom about nature and the beauty of things to him—especially in the middle of the night—was just too different for him to comprehend. He was, after all, Draco Malfoy. He knew all, saw all, and bought all. Anything that didn't fit into his perfect little world just wouldn't make any sense to him.

Well, Hermione Granger definitely shook that world up a bit.

As the first day of classes came to a close and dinner dwindled by, Hermione wondered if Draco would be exhausted enough to leave the Great Hall before she did. If he was truly fascinated with her, he would stick around until she left. If not, he would leave. Trying her best to avoid the Slytherin table, she stood with the rest of her housemates to retire to the common room. In doing so, she turned her body fully towards the Slytherin table, where she saw Draco Malfoy still staring at her. It would seem that he _was_ fascinated with her. Her eyes caught his in a battle of wits. For a while she expected his face to fall to the usual sneer. As time slowly passed, that didn't happen. Instead, something else entirely filled his eyes. It wasn't until Harry tapped her shoulder to tell her to hurry that she finally looked away.

"Come on, Hermione." Harry said, puzzled by her bewildered expression.

Nodding, she followed him out of the Great Hall without a look back. She didn't even have to look to know he was watching her. She could feel him just fine without her eyes. It took the doors closing behind her for the hair to finally settle at the back of her neck. As she followed the boys back to the common room, she tried to decipher the look she had seen in Draco's glimmering eyes a second before she had looked away. If she had to put a word on it, she would think it was confusion. However, that didn't even seem to fit. It was deeper than that. To be honest, it was almost as if she had disturbed him in some way.

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about that.

* * *

Draco couldn't stop his eyes from watching her during dinner that night. It had been a full two hours since he last saw her and he had to be sure he hadn't missed anything. No, she looked exactly like she had before. Nothing was different. Her hair was still in a ponytail, her robes still perfect. So, why did he feel that troubling sensation deep in his stomach? It felt as though something about Hermione Granger was wrong, unnatural. He knew it was nothing evil. Draco Malfoy had lived beside evil for years. No, it was something else.

Barely touching his plate, he saw Hermione stand with her friends. As she lifted herself off of the bench she began facing his way. Her body turned, her eyes landing on his and he still didn't look away. Seconds ticked by as they stared into each other's eyes. Draco was trying to dig into those brown doors; trying to figure out what made them look so sad all day today and the day before. She could smile and laugh all she wanted, but he knew. He knew something wasn't right.

He found himself wanting to curse when Harry Potter pulled away her attention. Smiling and nodding at what he said, she walked away without a second glance. Even as he watched her walk out the door, she didn't look back at him. Draco could tell she knew he was staring at her. Hell, she probably was annoyed at him for doing so. If asked why, he would just say the truth. He could see there was something off about her. Simple as that.

Well, ok, maybe only half of the truth.

* * *

Hermione was sitting with her friends by the fireplace when it happened. She could feel as her skin turned hot and sweat poured down her back. When the first wave of nausea hit, she was prepared.

Having spent the last year with random symptoms coming and going, Hermione could tell right away that something was going to happen. It was in times like these—when her body rejected what she ate—that a nervous, jumpy feeling would echo through her body. She quickly excused herself from her friends, claiming to be tired. Trying as normally as she could, she headed up the girls' dorm staircase. It wasn't until she made it halfway up that she started running. Luckily, most of the girls' were downstairs doing homework or out on the grounds. That left Hermione with free roam of the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut and locking it behind her, Hermione grabbed her hair and got sick in the toilet. The sound itself made her gag further, making it hard to stop. When her body had nothing left to expel, she sat back on the floor as she flushed the toilet. The cold tile felt good against her back as she leaned into the wall. Hermione knew it would only take a few seconds for her to feel good as new. Until then, she would just sit there and rest her now tired body. She had pushed it running up those stairs to get here. She should've known to take it slow. Though, how easy is it to take it slow when one has the dire need to get sick?

Just like every time before now, Hermione felt perfectly fine a few moments later. Even her skin went back to its normal temperature. With a small, humorless laugh, she walked to the sink to brush the vile taste from her mouth. It was a good thing she had placed her toothbrush in the bathroom before dinner. She didn't think she would have the strength to make it to her trunk and back if she didn't.

As she brushed her teeth, she couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror. Her skin was a tad bit paler then it was before, but that would change while she slept. The only thing that worsened was the color beneath her eyes. It was a deeper purple now, a little more noticeable. Nothing that a tad bit of concealer couldn't help of course. If it got any darker she would use a concealment charm. Until then, muggle makeup would be good enough. Bending toward the sink to rinse out her mouth, she got a look at her eyes in the mirror. Even to her they looked different. The color was the same, but they didn't hold the life they used to. The spark was gone, leaving dull and dark orbs.

Needing to get away from the mirror, Hermione cleaned her toothbrush before placing it with the rest of her bathroom accessories. She might be one of the few who still used muggle hygiene products, but she wouldn't stop using them now. Satisfied that no one would know about her little incident, Hermione pulled on her pajamas and hopped into bed. As she watched the moon dance with the stars, she thought about her parents. She missed them terribly, but knew she couldn't go home yet. Her purpose here, whatever it was, just didn't feel like it was done yet.

Exhaustion began circling her muscles, making her fall asleep within minutes.

* * *

Draco lay in bed that night, listening to his housemates' snores. It was a little after three in the morning and he was wide awake. Having gone straight to bed after dinner, he awoke around two after only six hours of sleep. While this was nothing new, it was still disconcerting. To sleep through the night would be a wonderful thing. Upon awaking, Draco tried everything to fall back asleep. When nothing worked, he settled for staring at the ceiling.

He waited and waited for sleep to come, but it never did. So, to give himself something to do, he got out of bed and walked to his trunk. After saying the necessary spells needed to unlock the latch, he made sure to not wake anyone as he started to quietly dig around. When his hand hit the little box he had hidden beneath his broom kit, he pulled it out slowly and re-latched the trunk. The floor was cold beneath his feet as he carried the box to his bed; closing the green curtains around him as he did so. This was his secret and he didn't want anyone else to know about it.

With his wand lit, he opened the box; revealing the rose inside. Surprised, he lifted it off the soft velvet. He had thought it would wither and die through the day, what with it having no sunlight or water. It hadn't, though. It was still sitting there as if it had opened its bud moments ago. Tentatively, Draco touched the petals, feeling the smooth texture against his skin. He lifted and moved the petals, making sure they didn't rip. The deeper he saw, the blacker the color was. They were truly the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. But, that didn't explain why Hermione's words had bothered him so much.

Letting out the breath he had been holding, he closed the box and slid it back in his trunk. He needed to get out of the dungeons.

* * *

Hermione walked the grounds, watching the moon sink lower and lower towards the horizon. It was five thirty in the morning and she had been walking around for an hour. The frustration and anger she had felt upon coming out here was almost fully gone as she looked across the Black Lake at the sky. Her night sweats had woke her up again. After finally settling into an undisturbed sleep for the first time in months, she couldn't stop the anger she had felt from being pulled from that wonderful abyss.

Standing still, she could feel the morning dew cling to the bottoms of her jeans as the light wind whipped around her loose hair. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling. It was always the most peaceful right before sunrise. Most people just sleep the morning away. Granted, if she could, she would. However, she never really regretted being awake before sunrise. There was nothing compared to feeling the first warmth of the day.

"I should've known you'd be out here."

Hermione didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was. She had felt his gaze the moment he was nearby. "Of course. Why would I want to miss a beautiful sunrise?"

Her calm voice warmed Draco slightly. He had been wandering for the last hour, wondering if she was out here as well. It was true that when he spotted her by the lake he wasn't surprised. "How long have you been out here?"

Opening her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest and smiled slightly, "I lost track."

He chuckled. "Of course you did."

Turning her body in a complete 180, she stared at the direction of the rising sun, the oranges, pinks, and reds just peeping over the horizon. "If you have such a problem with me being out here, why are you out here yourself?"

"Couldn't sleep." He looked in the direction she was.

"It would seem you're not the only one." Her voice was light, full of warmth.

The two shared a comfortable silence as the sun rose higher, finally settling its light over the horizon. Switching his eyes to rest on her face, he watched as her eyes filled with joy and comfort. It seemed that even the sunrise could make Hermione Granger happy. "Can I ask you a question, Granger?"

Surprised, she glanced at him before returning her eyes to the sunrise, "Sure, Malfoy."

"Why do you like this stuff so much?" He asked, honestly curious and confused.

Raising an eyebrow, she turned to him again, "This stuff? What stuff?"

"You know," he motioned towards the sunrise and the tree beside the lake she sat at the night before, "this."

"I see." She uncrossed her arms and tied her hair on top of her head.

"So?"

She lifted a finger, trying to think of the simplest way to say this. He really did like asking the really hard questions.

Draco tapped his thumb against his hand as he slid his hands in his pockets impatiently. He wasn't used to patience. It unnerved him.

"It's like I said last night, Malfoy," she crossed her arms again. "Some things that other people mock, others worship."

"So, you worship this?"

She smiled again, her eyes dancing with sad humor, "No, Malfoy. But, I can see it for what it's meant to be."

He smiled with her—just because—for the first time. "And what is that, Granger?"

"Life."


	7. Maid of Honor

****

((I hope you all like this so far! Please review!!))

* * *

**Chapter 6::  
**_Maid of Honor_

* * *

Hermione sat on her bed, the sheets warm against her legs as she stared at the light flickering across the ceiling. The sun had risen and was sitting just outside the nearby window when she laid herself back in bed. Every morning since she saw the sunrise, she would be sure to be back in her bed before the other girls woke up. Not only would it prevent questions, but it also gave her a chance to see the sunlight dance through her curtains and onto her ceiling. If she tilted her head just right she could see different shapes and designs above her head. There was a smiley face in one direction and even a peace sign in the other. And if she flipped around, she saw that there was even a heart-shaped space. Her face fell into a sad smile as she went over the outline with her finger from afar. That shape was there every day; almost as if it were trying to tell her something. But, that didn't honestly matter.

Love, she knew, was just something she would never get to be a part of.

* * *

It had been a month since the morning she watched the sunrise with Draco Malfoy; and a month since he spoke to her. It became painfully obvious to her that he was trying his hand at avoiding her. In classes he would look everywhere but in her direction and in the halls he would treat her like she was invisible. While she couldn't honestly say why—for she hadn't the faintest idea—she felt that she had a good idea. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. They just weren't meant to get along, despite how much he seemed to enjoy her company in those sleepless nights.

His firm plan of ignoring her, however, didn't seem to apply at dinner time. Whenever she would talk to Harry, Ron, or Ginny she would feel his gaze on her back. As she chewed, she could feel his eyes watching her face with intensity. Her body seemed to still be hyper aware of him, despite the time that has gone by. Hermione never saw him on her nightly walks anymore, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. It might sound crazy to anyone else, but she knew he was still there somewhere. He just didn't want her to know it.

Draco Malfoy was not the only thing that had caught Hermione's attention recently. The list she had made was also constantly on her mind. So far, the only thing she had managed to accomplish was riding a broom. Every night for the past month she would try a little harder and, just last night, she managed to fly all around the school at 20 feet in the air. That was good enough for her. Though, that now left her with her other goals. Most of them were simple things, only a few being extreme.

Sitting in the common room, she opened her Ancient Runes textbook and pulled the sheet out from the center. It was heavily spelled, to be sure no one but her could read it. Her eyes skimmed the page, trying to decide what she should do next. The list wasn't overly long, but it was more than enough for her.

"Hermione, what are you doing?"

Ginny's voice startled Hermione slightly, causing the list to fall to the floor. Trying to pick it up, she barely touched it before Ginny picked it up herself and started to read. "Hey, Ginny."

Looking up from the sheet, Ginny looked confused. "_**101 Ways to Pass NEWTS**_? Hermione, you really don't need a list to tell you how to pass that bloody exam. You're the brightest witch of the age. I'm certain you'll do just fine."

Smiling, Hermione let out a breath or relieved air. It was nice to know her spells worked. "Well, you know me. I like to be prepared."

"That's true." Ginny sat next to Hermione of the couch as she handed the piece of paper back to her. "So, I have a question for you and I would like it if you answered me honestly."

Hermione put on her most innocent look—just in case. "Sure."

"Ok, good." Ginny took a deep breath. "I've noticed things about you, Mione, that aren't like they used to be. You barely go to the library anymore and whenever you hang out with us you seem different."

"I do?" Uh oh, this was not looking good.

"Yes, you do." Ginny crossed her arms. "And I think I know what is going on."

"You do?" Could she? Last time she checked, no other symptoms began to show up and she hasn't had any dizzy spills.

"Yes. Hermione?"

'_Here it comes…_' Hermione's mind started to think of ways to explain.

"Who is it?"

Hermione's mind suddenly went blank. "Beg pardon?

Ginny laughed and pulled Hermione in for a hug, catching the witch with surprise. The hug was fierce, almost painful. Either Ginny was extremely excited or she was extremely worried. From the way she was laughing, Hermione deduced that she was excited. "Ginny, what is this about?"

Ginny pulled back, "There's a guy, isn't there?"

"A guy?" Huh? This was not what she was expecting.

"A guy! There has to be! The drifting mind, the slacking in studies—well, if you call you not going to the library slacking—all points to you having a secret. And, I figure, that the only secret you'd keep was if you had a guy. So?" Her voice was high, gossip ready.

Well, this was different, "No, Ginny. There is no guy."

Ginny's face fell. "Really?"

"Really. There's not even anything that comes _close_ to a guy right now."

She watched her best friend's face turn into a pout. "And here I was hoping you finally found someone that would help you stick it to Ronald."

At this, Hermione had to laugh. Despite how bad it sounded, Hermione was glad that Ron was being a git to others and not just her. It might have been her turning him down that set him off, but there had definitely already been underlying issues at work. Perhaps it was the fame and all getting to his head? "Has Ron been that bad?"

Ginny nodded sadly, "Yes, it has. All he does it complain and every time Harry or I don't agree with him he gets angry and tries to put down everything we say. It's really starting to drive me mad."

Hermione nodded. "I see. What do you think made Ron start acting this way?"

"I'm not sure. All that I know is that when Harry and I get married, he's not invited to the wedding unless he stops being a bloody prick."

Hermione was nodding her head through that entire sentence. It wasn't until she heard 'get married' that she froze in place, her mouth dropping open. Her head snapped around and saw Ginny had her hand over her mouth, her eyes erratic with panic. It was too late now, however. Ginny just spilt the beans.

"Oh, Merlin." She said with her eyes wide.

Unsure of what to do, she settled for pulling the red head in for a strong hug and whispering, "When did this happen!?"

Ginny laughed and replied in a whisper, "The other night. We were sitting in his bed and just talking when he suddenly gave me this… this… look."

Hermione pulled back and looked around to make sure no one was around. "What look?"

Ginny was smiling, love shining in her eyes. "I don't know how to describe it. It was just this look that made my heart race and toes curl."

"Ok," Hermione didn't understand, exactly, but didn't want to admit to it. "Then what?"

"Then he took my left hand and placed a rolled chocolate wrapper on my ring finger."

Oh, this was not what Hermione expected to hear. "A chocolate wrapper?"

Ginny nodded, "A chocolate wrapper from Honeydukes."

Hermione had the sudden urge to slap her hand to her forehead. "He proposed to you with a chocolate wrapper. I can't believe that!"

While she was fuming over the stupidity her other best friend displayed, Ginny sat on the couch smiling in her. "What's so bloody funny? How could you not be disappointed? Bloody hell, he's like my brother and _I'm _disappointed!"

Shaking her head, Ginny stuck her hand in her pants pocket, "You never let me finish."

Hermione watched as the youngest Weasley pulled a beautiful diamond ring out of her pocket. At first she couldn't believe her eyes. The ring was silver, the diamond interwoven within the band. "Oh Merlin, Ginny! That's no chocolate wrapper."

"That's the wonderful part, Mione." Ginny slid the ring on her finger. "When he slid on the wrapper I was so shocked. But, when I said yes? The wrapper changed into this." She held out her hand; the ring fit perfectly.

Hermione didn't know what to say. There were tears in her eyes as she pulled her best friend in for a hug, "Congratulations, Gin. You two will be so happy."

As they separated, Ginny slipped the ring back into her pocket. "We don't want anyone to know until we tell my parents over Christmas holiday."

Understanding, Hermione smiled. "Don't worry; your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks. I'm glad you know. It's nice to finally be able to talk to someone about it." Ginny was all smiles.

"Have you guys discussed when you want it to be?" Hermione was so happy that she couldn't stop smiling for her two best friends.

Ginny nodded. "We decided to wait until he gets done with his auror training, so we're banking on July two years from now."

Those last four words repeated themselves in Hermione's head over and over again. Two years from now. Her smile dropped into a frown as her heart skipped beats. Her breathing began to draw irregular and spots started to fill her vision. Ginny and Harry were going to be married two years from now. Her two best friends were going to get married… and she wasn't going to be there.

This just couldn't be happening.

It wasn't possible.

No, this can't be true!

"Hermione?" Ginny's face held concern, "Are you alright?"

Snapping herself out of it, Hermione smiled slightly. It was an awkward smile that almost hurt her face, but it would be enough. She'd learned to be a great actress over the last year. "Of course, Gin! I'm just so excited for you!"

"I'm glad! And I have one question to ask you."

'_Please, Gin, don't ask. I know what you're going to ask, but please don't. My heart can't take it.'_

"Would you please be my Maid of Honor?"

What could she say? She couldn't just say no. No, not without an explanation! If she denied wanting to be Ginny's maid of honor, she would be giving herself away. She couldn't do that, especially not now that they're so happy and getting married! "Of course, Gin! I wouldn't want anything else!"

Pain stabbed through her chest as her best friend pulled her back in for another fierce hug. The tears that stung her eyes were not from joy any longer. They were from sorrow.

"I'm going to tell Harry. See you later?" Ginny didn't wait for a response before she bounced out of the common room in search of her future husband.

When she was out of sight, Hermione let her smile fall and the pain contort her face. She needed air, she needed to breathe. Everything seemed surreal as she quickly walked through the portrait hole and into the halls of the school. Her head felt heavy as she crossed the lobby and flew out of the doors that lead to the grounds. She was grateful the halls were empty; everyone being in the Great Hall for dinner. There was no way she could keep it together long enough to pretend anymore. Not right then.

The tears were leaking out before she made it out the door. It was just too hard to hold them in. Her mind clouded, Hermione jogged towards her tree. However, she never even made it there, for her legs gave out when she was halfway. Collapsing to the ground, she gasped out sobs and tore at the grass. No matter how much she tried, she would never be able to make it alright. Harry and Ginny would still have to get married without their best friend there. Sooner or later, she had to eventually come clean and tell everyone the truth. Her parents were still going to lose their daughter…

And she was still going to die in less than two years.

"Granger? Are you alright?"

Draco's shocked voice stopped her tears as fear shot through her body. He was not at dinner with everyone else. He had seen everything. Looking down, Hermione saw that her finger were bloody from tearing at the ground; the skin an angry red and yet she felt no pain from it. Her emotional breakdown was no longer a secret; nothing else mattered. Not the pain and not her pathetic little pity party. Turning her head, she made sure her hair covered her red and blotchy face from his view.

"I'm fine, Malfoy. Please, go back inside." Her voice cracked, her nose running.

Draco didn't need to see her face to know she was lying. "You're not fine. Come on, let's get you back to—" He paused as he saw her hands, raw and bleeding. "Bloody hell, Granger, what did you do to yourself?"

Hermione snatched her hands away as he bent over to touch them. Standing on shaking legs, she stepped back and away from him, not caring if he saw her face anymore. It's not like he didn't know now, anyway. "Don't touch me."

Freezing, Draco raised his hands into a surrendering pose. "Fine, I'm sorry. I just want to get you to Madam Pomphrey. Your hands are bleeding pretty badly."

"Why do you care?" The bloody tears started to form again; her voice sad and heartbreaking.

That question seemed to throw him for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "I honestly don't know, Granger. But, that doesn't change the fact that you still need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"No," Hermione started shaking her head, "I don't need to go to the hospital wing. I need you to please go away."

Draco felt a twinge in his heart as she started to cry again. He hated it when women cried. "I can't. You can't expect me to see you hurt and broken up like this and just walk away."

"Please… just…" Hermione started to feel dizzy, her vision going blurry, "Draco… just go a—"

Draco reacted to Hermione falling even before his brain could comprehend it. Catching her before her body hit the ground; Draco looked at her pale, unconscious face and was unsure of what to do. He needed to get her to Pomphrey, sure, but tell her what? He wasn't even sure what happened to her. As far as he knew she just had an emotional overload. Besides, how was he going to explain why he was there?

'_Sorry, Madam Pomphrey, but I saw Granger running out the front doors crying and just had to stalk her in the shadows until I couldn't take the sad sobs anymore. Am I a stalker? Of course not, Ma'am!'_

Yes, that would certainly not go well.

Either way, that didn't matter. He still needed to get Granger there. So, lifting her extremely light body, Draco carried the witch bridal style towards the hospital wing as fast as he could. The people he passed in the hallways started to whisper. He knew that her friends would soon hear about this and would quite possibly try and find a way to blame him. For some reason, that didn't bother him. All that did was that Hermione Granger was unconscious in his arms.


	8. Logic in her Eyes

**((I hope you all like! Please review!))**

* * *

**Chapter 7::  
**_Logic in her Eyes_

* * *

Hermione tried to open her eyes, but the pain in her head was so intense she had to close them again. Every part of her body felt as if it had been run over by a truck and she couldn't remember why. Opening her eyes again, she blinked repeatedly until the blurriness was gone; leaving only the dull ache at the front of her head. She knew where she was, finally. The scene before her was easily identified as the Hospital Wing. No other place would have those curtains.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Hermione spotted Madam Pomphrey at the foot of her bed. The witch looked strung out and worried. In her hand, there was a bright blue potion, "Here take this, dear. It'll make you feel better."

Rolling to the side, she allowed the mediwitch to put the potion up to her lips, where she swallowed the odd tasting liquid immediately. As she felt the cool of the potion hit her stomach, her headache started to fade away. "How did I get here?" Her voice was raw from lack of use.

The mediwitch smiled, "Mr. Malfoy brought you here after you collapsed. Bloody well wouldn't leave until I told him I'd send for him the moment you awoke."

Hermione sat up slowly, as her head screamed in protest. When she was successful leaving against the head railing, she frowned and tried to remember everything. It came back slowly; almost as if someone set her mind on slow motion. She suddenly remembered the news of Ginny and Harry's secret engagement, and then the pain of knowing she wouldn't be able to be the Maid of Honor like had promised she would. But, she still couldn't remember where Malfoy came in all of this. All she could acknowledge was that she had needed air and ran outside—

Oh, right. She did remember. He had seen her at her worst; sobbing for the life she was losing. He had tried to get her to the hospital wing because of her hands. Looking down, she saw the skin of her fingers and fists bandaged up. She could faintly recall punching and tearing at the ground in anger. Sighing, she didn't know how she was going to be able to explain her actions to Draco Malfoy.

"Dear?" Pomphrey asked, sitting in the chair beside her bed, "Would you please tell me what happened? Why were your hands cut up so badly?"

Hermione glanced at Pomphrey before looking back down at her hands. She might as well tell her; the condensed version at least. "I was just having an emotional breakdown. I got to thinking about everything I would have to miss once I was gone and I just… lost it. Malfoy caught me outside; crying and tearing at the ground in anger."

Nodding, Pomphrey asked, "Yes, he did say you were nearly hysterical when he found you."

A snort came out of Hermione's nose at the word. "Sure. Hysterical." A sudden thought occurred to her, "Have any of my friends come to see me yet?"

Pomphrey smiled softly, "Yes, they have. Since you've been unconscious for two days, they wanted to be sure you were ok. Mr. Malfoy stopped by about six times, he did. His questions were starting to get on my nerves, they were."

That confused Hermione a bit. Sure, Draco Malfoy had been interested about her before, but the bloke hasn't even spoken to her in a month. Why, then, was he so worried about her?

"I found it quite odd that he would be the one to bring you here, dear." The older witch continued. "Since when did he become a friend of yours?"

Hermione wasn't sure how she was to respond to that. "Well, I wouldn't call him my friend exactly."

"Oh?"

"No, he's more of an acquaintance. We talk from time to time, I suppose you could say." If you could even call what they did talking.

Madam Pomphrey nodded. "I will admit that when I was told he was coming back to Hogwarts, I had my doubts. After all, the ministry had no right forcing us to let him back in as punishment. Though, I must say, that when he brought you in he was beyond concerned. You should've seen him, Miss Granger. I've never seen that young man so worried in all the years I've known him."

"Really?" How odd.

"Yes, Miss Granger. He almost wouldn't leave your side."

"What did you tell him was wrong with me?" She really hoped it was something good and believable.

Poppy smiled, "I can tell a pretty decent fib, Miss Granger. I told him what I told Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley; that your mind was just overloaded and that it was protecting itself."

Hermione nodded and visibly relaxed. It would have been hard trying to think of a cover story. Now, it seemed, she wouldn't have to. "Did they believe you?"

Pomphrey waved off her concern. "Of course they did, dear. What reason would they have to not believe me?"

Nodding her head, Hermione couldn't help but think that it was true. Madam Pomphrey was always caring and honest. To even accuse her of lying would be almost blasphemous! Having her lie for her was almost enough to make her regret asking the older witch for her help.

"Alright, thank you, Madam Pomphrey. For everything." Her sincerity leaked through her voice.

Poppy patted her shoulder and smiled. "Not a problem. But, I do have a question to ask you, if that's all right."

"Of course." Her reply was automatic.

"Has this happened before? You're blackouts?" Poppy seemed to genuinely be curious.

"Yes, they have; a couple of times, actually." Her mind flickered back to the embarrassing times she collapsed in public places with her parents.

Poppy leaned forward. "Why do they happen, exactly?"

"I'm not sure." Hermione stated, saying what the doctors had told her parents. "The doctors thought that it could be because my body is reacting to the cancer cells."

"I see." Standing up, Pomphrey crossed the room and pulled a couple of vials from her desk. "And do you often get sick, Miss Granger?"

"Uh," Hermione frowned, confused. "Not really, Ma'am. I have a hard time keeping down my food during lunch or dinner, but my body seems to be fighting off illnesses quite well."

Poppy nodded and brought the vials back to Hermione, "Yes, that's good. CML allows your immune system to still function partially. If you haven't been getting sick, then you are still in stage 1."

Hermione watched curiously as Pomphrey lined up the 8 light green vials on the stand next to her bed. "That's what I've been told. But, Madam Pomphrey, may I ask what you are doing?"

Shocked slightly out of her thoughts, it took the mediwitch a moment to get her thoughts together. "Well, Miss Granger, these are vials that hold the same potion."

"Yes, I see that, Ma'am." What was this about? "Those aren't for me, I take it. I told you I already stopped responding to treatments, so they won't be of any help."

"Oh, I know that, dear." She pulled a pad of parchment and a quill out of her robes and started to write on it rapidly.

"So, what are those for?"

Tearing off the paper, she handed it to Hermione and started to explain. "Well, while you were unconscious, dear, I started to brew a potion that I wanted you to start taking. It won't have any effect on your cancer, unfortunately, but they will help."

Hermione read the slip of paper, which held directions of when to take each vial, and looked back up at Pomphrey, "With what?"

"Since leukemia primarily attacks the immune system and leaves it open to other illnesses, this potion will prevent any foreign bacteria from entering your body." Poppy smiled at the girl.

Hermione smiled slightly, "Which may help me live a little longer."

Madam Pomphrey smiled back sadly, "Indeed."

Hermione's relief was so intense she almost felt the need to hug her. Almost. "So, when can I leave, Ma'am?"

Pomphrey thought for a moment. "I'd say tomorrow. It's around noon right now, so you should stay in bed today away from stress. You can take the first potion and then tomorrow I'll let you leave."

That made Hermione a little elated, but she was used to staying in the hospital. After all, the majority of the last year saw her in hospital beds. "Ok, I suppose that'll be fine."

"Good. Mr. Potter said he would bring you your assignments to work on after he was done with lunch."

"Oh, good." At least she wouldn't have to worry about falling behind.

"But, I do have to tell you, Miss Granger that Mr. Malfoy will also be here sometime today to check on you. He always is." The way she said it sounded almost forlorn.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and nodded her head. "That's fine, I suppose. He did bring me here after all; it would be rude to not allow him to see I'm doing ok."

Poppy smiled. "Good, that means I won't have to kick him out again. He is very stubborn when he's determined, I'm afraid."

Hermione smiled slightly, "I've noticed that, too."

* * *

Draco was a wreck. The annoying feeling eating around his stomach was almost enough to make him go crazy. Ever since he first dropped Hermione Granger off at the Hospital Wing he hadn't been able to get her off of his mind. He had never seen her so broken up like he had two days before and it threw him. It just didn't seem natural for someone so sure of herself to become so unhinged. In fact, he didn't even think it was possible! What could be so major that it made her have an emotional breakdown? Not even the Dark Lord himself could make her break. The witch had been bloody tortured in his home and she still managed to lie and not break.

So, after every meal he would walk up to the infirmary and check on her. He didn't know why he cared so much. In fact, he hadn't even known he could care at all. It was unnerving and he didn't honestly like it. The moment he saw she was awake he would go back to doing what he always did before. He would brood and scared away everyone. Draco Malfoy was only at Hogwarts because he had to be. There was no need to form any type of bond with anyone.

Especially not Hermione Granger.

* * *

Pushing open the doors of the infirmary, he half expected Madam Pomphrey to come charging out her office to make him leave. Every time he was here before, she would keep him away from Hermione like a mother hen. What he wanted to know was whether or not she was doing the same with everyone else, or if it was just him.

"Oh, yes. Mr. Malfoy." Pomphrey's voice came from his side, where she standing with her arms crossed.

"Are you going to force me out of here again?" He knew the answer and prepared to turn for the door.

Sighing, she replied. "No. As it turns out I no longer need to."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

Uncrossing her arms, she shut the door behind him. "Because Miss Granger is awake and has every right to decide who gets to see her."

That froze the smirk that was forming on his face, "She's awake?"

"Indeed, she is, Mr. Malfoy."

"Where is she?" He looked towards the curtain that circled the bed she had been occupying the day before.

"Not in bed. Despite my telling her so, she is just this way." She motioned for him to follow her across the wide room.

Right next to the door that led to her office, there was a small balcony he never noticed before. Sitting in a chair with a book and parchment across her lap was Hermione. Draco's breath caught in his throat as he took her in. While the book was open, she was not reading it or even writing on the parchment. No, her eyes were looking out over the lake, where several students were playing happily. Her hair was blowing in the wind, causing the light fragrance of her vanilla shampoo tickle his nose.

'_She's so beautiful—wait, what!?!'_ The sudden thought that crossed his head left him feeling completely shocked. There was no way that thought was his. No, it was just a freak accident!

As he berated himself, he started to notice little things. The bags that were beneath her eyes were slightly more pronounced, now taking on a bluish color. Her hands, one in her lap and the other against her neck, were slightly shaking. Whatever was wrong with her was not from an emotional breakdown. It couldn't be, could it? He never knew breakdowns like that had a physical reaction as well.

"Be nice to her, Mr. Malfoy. I will not allow her to get stressed out." The woman's voice was clipped and assertive. She meant all the words she was saying.

Nodding his head, Draco didn't respond. He was too bewitched by the young witch in the balcony.

"I know you're there, Malfoy. You might as well join me." Hermione said without looking away from the scenery in front of her.

Smirking, he walked forward and leaned against the doorframe. "Your emotions back in check?"

Turning her head in his direction, he noticed her eyes were slightly dark then before. "That they are, Malfoy. Thank you for bringing me to the hospital wing."

At first Draco was confused. Normally she would have just told him to shove it or something. Now, she seemed like she didn't care about his petty comments. In fact, she seemed far away. "So, are you going to tell me what I saw, Granger?"

"I don't know what you mean, Malfoy." Her voice was forced, strained as she turned away from him again.

"Yes, you do." He needed to know. For his own sanity, if anything.

Sighing, she went with what Madam Pomphrey had said. "It's just been a long year, is all. A long year with a lot of emotional rollercoaster's and I just lost it, ok? Sometimes people just lose it, Malfoy, it's not anything too major."

Stepping out of the door frame, he grasped the balcony and looked over the lake and trees. The sun was just starting to set and he could see the different colors shooting across the sky. "I see that even through your emotional crisis you still love sceneries."

She let out a small smile. "Nothing could stop me from loving things like this."

"Because it's just so full of life, correct?" His voice held the smallest hint of sarcasm.

Her smile fell. "Don't mock me, Malfoy. You couldn't even begin to understand the way I see things."

He nodded, "And I'm not contesting otherwise."

The two stood there silent. Hermione was thinking about how much fun it would be to swim in the lake like those first years below them were. Draco was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I know you're lying, Granger." He hadn't really meant for that to come out. But, now that it did, he didn't really want to take it back.

She turned her wide and innocent eyes on him, "I don't know what you mean."

Draco shook his head, "I'm not going to fall for your innocence, Granger. I'm no fool. I've seen and worked with liars firsthand—"

"You mean the Death Eaters? Your father?" She interrupted him, wanting to change the direction their conversation had taken.

He froze for a moment and cleared his throat. He really didn't like speaking of his past anymore. "Yes, I mean the Death Eaters."

"Yes, you mean the people you were a part of." Her voice was low, dangerous.

"You can't do that, Granger. I know you're just trying to get me to go away." Draco wasn't going to fall in the trap.

"I'm just trying to say what I think about you."

"No, you're not." He took a step in her direction, "You can't lie to me. Out of everyone here, you are the only one who showed that you don't care about my past. You were willing to forgive me on that day on the train."

She didn't say anything. She was just too irked by the way he seemed to be able to see right through her.

"So, don't start trying to anger me or to make me leave you alone. I can see right through you."

"No, you can't." Her voice wavered, unsure.

He rolled his eyes, "Don't be so naïve. I know that an emotional breakdown doesn't make your hands shake and bags appear beneath your eyes. Something else is wrong with you and you don't want anyone to know."

Looking into his eyes, she felt fear. "If you are so sure that I don't want anyone to know, then why do you think I'll tell you?"

Draco kneeled down to eyelevel. "Because you don't like me."

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione couldn't stop the laugh from escaping. "Oh, sure. I'm going to tell you a big secret that I'm apparently keeping from my friends because I don't like you? Where's your logic, Malfoy?"

"My logic is in your eyes, Hermione." He said her name and liked the way it rolled off of his tongue. "You need to tell someone, but it can't be a friend. You need to tell someone who won't get all emotion and cry every two seconds they're in the same room with you. Your friends wouldn't be able to take it. I can."

Hermione was silent for a second, unsure of how to proceed. What he offered sounded so tempting. She could finally talk to someone other than a doctor or mediwitch; someone who wouldn't cry. It's hard having to pretend all of the time, but what if she didn't have to when she was around Draco? He's come face to face with evil and is still standing. Maybe he could take a dying classmate.

Draco saw the indecision in her eyes and kept willing her to tell him. He was so confused and desperately needed to know. He was going mad without knowing.

"Malfoy?" Her voice was small.

"Yes, Granger?" He asked with his hands on the arms of her chair.

She swallowed really hard, "I would like you to leave now."

At first he was frozen, unsure if she was serious. When he finally realized she was, he stood up and looked down at her. "I'm going to find out."

"There's nothing for you to find out." Hermione stared him in the eye, unwavering.

He smirked, "Whatever you say, Granger."

Hermione watched him walk away and her heart gave a little twitch. She wanted to tell him; oh, boy, did she ever. But, to what purpose? It wasn't like he really cared; he just didn't like not knowing. If she really wanted to tell anyone, it would be her friends' first—not some ex-death eater who's fascinated by her words of wisdom.


	9. Heart Break

__

**((I hope you like! Please review!))**

* * *

_**Chapter 8::  
**__Heart Break_

* * *

Nerves shook her as Hermione stood in front of the portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room. The moment she walked in, she knew she would be bombarded with questions concerning her collapse and why Malfoy was seen carrying her through the school. She'd managed to dodge that bullet once when Harry and Ron brought over her homework. They had, luckily for her, shown up with her assignments just five minutes after she fell asleep. Madam Pomphrey made them promise not to wake her up; another thing she'd eventually have to repay the witch for.

But, now here she was with her current dilemma. It was morning on a Saturday, which guaranteed that all her friends would present. Breakfast had just ended, so she knew there was no way out of this. If she didn't go to them first, they would eventually come to her later. So, with that thought, she said the password and walked into the common room with her head held high. However, the moment she was in the middle of the room, relief started to wash over her. The only person present in the common room was Harry.

"Harry?" She asked, walking towards the figure on the overstuffed chair.

Hearing his name, Harry turned around, trying to keep his messy hair out of his face.

"Oh, Hermione! I was wondering when you were going to be released from the hospital."

Hermione smiled as he enveloped her in a tight hug. Moments like these were the reason she loved her friends so much. Harry in particular. He just had this way of making her know everything was going to be alright when it so obviously wasn't. When he pulled back slightly, his hands remained clutched on her shoulders as he looked her up and down.

"Well," he said, once he was satisfied, "it doesn't look like you have anything damaged. Guess I won't have to kill Malfoy, after all."

The smile that broke across her face was so large that she could feel the skin stretch next to her ears. "No, Harry." She lightly patted the side of his face. "Killing Malfoy would not be a good idea."

"It might be," he pushed her lightly to the couch, "Unless you tell me what the bloody hell happened three days ago. Why was Malfoy carrying you to the hospital? Was he the one who made you collapse?"

Sighing, she couldn't stop chiding herself. There was no doubt in her mind that the rumors had gotten bad. Now she would have to go around reassuring everyone that Draco Malfoy did not harm her in any way. "No, Harry. Malfoy didn't do anything to me. All he did was help me when I was in a rough patch."

He nodded. "Then, you'd better explain this rough patch, Mione. I don't like being clueless when it comes to what is wrong with my best friend."

"I know." She took in a deep breath and told him the outlined version. "This last year has been really tough. I've been going on a rollercoaster of emotions and with all the worry about NEWTS this year, I guess I just snapped."

"Snapped?" His voice was disbelieving.

She nodded. "Yes, snapped. I just had an emotional overload and collapsed. I ran outside to get some air and Malfoy found me crying. He tried to convince me to go to the hospital wing and I yelled at him. I guess I just let it go too far and my brain just shut down. It wasn't that big of a deal."

He was silent for just a second. "You need to not lie to me." Hurt filled Harry's eyes.

Her heart stung at the sight. "I'm not lying to you." She was just not telling the whole truth.

"Fine, maybe lying is the wrong choice of words. But, I do know that you are hiding something from me."

"That's not really true."

"Yes, it is, Hermione. Since when have we not been able to tell each other everything?" The hurt became more pronounced.

"It's not that simple, Harry." Her voice slowly started to turn into a whisper.

"Hermione, it doesn't have to be simple. It can be the hardest damn thing in the world and I would still want you to tell me. So, please, tell me." His brilliant green eyes shone bright as he said this.

Hermione felt the immediate crush of guilt. She knew he would be able to take it, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she didn't want him to have to take it. It would cripple him and he would try everything he could to save her. She knew that he would risk everything; including his engagement. She couldn't let that happen, but she knew she would have to tell him eventually. The problem that now presented itself, was whether or not she was willing to tell him now. Maybe she was…

"Harry—" she started.

"Miss Granger?"

She turned her head, seeing Professor McGonagall standing in the portrait hole with her arms crossed. This didn't look good. "Yes, Headmistress?"

"I need to speak with you in my office at once." Her voice was short and to the point.

Clearing her throat, Hermione stood. "Professor, might I inquire as to why?"

The older witch nodded her head stiffly. "It is pertaining to Mr. Malfoy. The Minister and I have heard rumors about him harming you Wednesday afternoon. If you don't come with me, he will be shipped to Azkaban to finish out the remainder of his sentence."

Hermione felt her heart give an unfamiliar jolt. Draco Malfoy hadn't done anything to her! And yet, here he was, about to be shipped to the worst place imaginable just because he helped her? No way! Turning back to Harry, she murmured an apology before following the Headmistress out of the room. As they walked through the halls, students were lined up against the walls watching her walk with the Headmistress to her study. Many of them were whispering amongst themselves, probably starting more rumors.

Sighing, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how much she really hated rumors.

* * *

Anger was pulsating through every inch of Draco's body. All he did was try to help the stupid Hermione Granger and this is where it gets him. It gets him trapped between two Aurors and the Minister of Magic with a warrant for his arrest. Cramped and cranky, he fidgeted in his seat and tried to not look at any of the men sitting around him. Not only had they called him to the office, but they had literally pulled him out of his bed two hours before. And now, they were currently sitting in the Headmistress' office and waiting for her to come back with Hermione Granger. Growling lightly, Draco knew that all she would have to do was tell them the truth and he would be allowed to stay in school and away from Azkaban.

To be honest, however, that was the part that was worrying him the most. He wasn't overly sure that she would tell them the truth. The last time they had spoken, she didn't seem all too happy with him. He supposed that was his fault, for he was the one who kept pushing. Granted, it wasn't any of his business what was going on with her. Though, after what he saw the day he had rushed her to the hospital wing? Hermione Granger owed him some sort of an explanation. It couldn't honestly be that bad, anyway. What could be so wrong with the Golden Trio's brain that she had to keep it a secret?

"She's back." One of the Aurors, a burly looking man, said as he heard the staircase started to move.

Kingsley, the new Minister, fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, I know, Wilson. Thank you."

Draco tried to not laugh. They could all hear the bloody stairs; it wasn't like it was quiet. Just the mere fact that the burly man, Wilson, was so daft that he had to verbally announce the obvious was hilarious. It would seem that applying for the academy no longer required having brains. And if he had to be honest, that frightened him somewhat. These were the people that protected the wizarding world from evil. If they weren't smart, how were they going to protect a whole civilization of people? Bloody hell, Draco didn't think they could protect an owl. Snorting, he couldn't help but understand how Voldemort had managed to get as far as he did. If all Aurors were like this, it was no wonder evil almost won.

The sound of the opening door caught his attention, drawing him out of his thoughts. Sure enough, McGonagall walked in with Hermione Granger on her tale. It would appear that at the sight of the army they had sent to acquire Draco was one Granger liked. For the moment she met his eyes, her face paled, if it were even possible. She was already ghostly pale as it was. With shaking hands, Hermione sat in the only available seat at the foot of McGonagall's desk. Funnily enough, it was the one right next to Minister Kingsley.

"Hello, Hermione, how are you doing today?" The minister asked pleasantly.

She gave a small smile, "I'm doing pretty well, I must say, Kingsley. Yourself?"

"I'm doing well. It's been difficult trying to make time between Minister Duties and the Order." He gave her an encouraging smile.

Draco could see that he Kingsley didn't like making Hermione nervous. He got the feeling they were old friends. Somehow, that irked him. He wasn't really sure he liked all these random men being friends with Hermione. What was wrong with him!?

Hermione gave a nervous laugh, "Indeed. I'd imagine it would be very busy. How's Arthur doing?"

Kingsley laughed at a random thought that Draco didn't understand. "He is well. To be honest, the man is enjoying himself. Being the Head of the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office is agreeing with him, I'd say."

"I'm glad." She smiled again before turning her eyes to the Headmistress.

"Now," McGonagall got down to business. "Miss Granger, you know why you are here, correct?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione's voice shook with nerves. She really didn't want to be there.

"Can you please tell us what happened Wednesday night before you were admitted into the Hospital Wing?" The old witch asked, sitting straight behind her desk.

"Uh," Hermione stuttered slightly, which puzzled Draco. She's never been nervous about telling facts. "Well, where do you want me to start?"

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Just start at the beginning."

Hermione was afraid she would say that. "Alright. Well, I was in the common room working on assignments and talking to Ginny. She told me some good news and I got really excited. When Ginny left however some other things crossed my mind and I just felt like I couldn't take it anymore. That was when I started feeling like I needed some air."

Draco sat back and listened. He could tell that there was something underlying beneath her story that she didn't want them all to know. He wondered if anyone else would catch on.

"I ran outside and just started to cry uncontrollably. That's where Draco Malfoy found me. He tried to convince me to go to the hospital but I refused and just told him to go away. That's when I started feeling a little light headed and just collapsed. The next thing I knew it was Friday morning and I was in a hospital bed." She let out a loud breath of air. One that, Draco suspected, she had been holding onto.

"I see." McGonagall turned to the Minister. "What do you think, Minister Kingsley?"

Kingsley rubbed his chin as he thought. What he said was enough to make Draco's heart stop beating. "From what Hermione has told us, it would appear that she had been cursed." He turned to Draco. "Did you place her under a curse, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's mouth fell open. "What? Of course not! Why would I do something like that?"

Kingsley shrugged, "To find favor in the eyes of the Ministry? Saving one of the people who are responsible for the fall of the most evil wizard of all time is big news. Many would do it without thinking twice."

This couldn't be happening to him! Draco was shaking his head furiously before the Minister even stopped. "No! That's not true! I wouldn't deliberately hurt someone for attention!"

All of the people in the room turned and gave him that look. The look Draco recognized as one given to someone who just told a big fat lie. Eyes growing wide, he tried to fix what he was trying to say. "No! I mean, yes, I would have done that before the war. But, I swear that I wouldn't do something like that now! Granger, help me out here!"

Hermione just stared at him, not really seeing him or hearing him at all. Her thoughts were her own and obviously far away from here. It would appear that he would end up going to Azkaban with or without her help.

Hermione stared at the scene before her in fear. From the moment Kingsley voiced his concern, Hermione knew that this was going down the wrong tunnel. Draco Malfoy didn't do anything to her except be friendly. Well, as friendly as he could possibly be. If she didn't come clean about why she collapsed he could very well spend time in Azkaban. Was her cancer so secretive that she would let an innocent person go to hell for no reason?

That answer was easy enough for her to answer.

"Minister?" Her voice was quiet.

Kingsley turned to Hermione, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I know Draco didn't do anything to me."

He gave a sad smile, "I appreciate that you have a kind heart, but there are few things that can cause a witch or wizard to collapse and I do not believe an overload in emotional baggage is one of them. There is no other explanation that I can see."

"But, you see, Sir," she cleared her throat with a nervous cough, "There is another explanation."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes? And that would be?"

Hermione sighed and looked him in the eye, "Kingsley, you know me. You know that I wouldn't lie, correct?"

He nodded his head.

"Right. May I ask one simple request?"

He nodded his head again, this time with his chin resting on his hand.

"What I'm about to say is very delicate. I don't want people to know yet. Not before I tell my friends. So, can I please tell Professor McGonagall and Draco alone? Professor McGonagall can tell you whether or not it'll require Draco going to Azkaban." There, she said it. She just hoped he would respect her wishes. McGonagall she trusted. Kingsley she trusted too, but there were ears all over the ministry and the last thing she needed was for it to be picked up by the Daily Prophet.

"Miss Granger, you know this is against regulation." He started.

She nodded, "I know, Minister."

Sighing, he stood and motioned for the Aurors to join him, "I will grant your request this once. Don't expect it to happen again, understood?"

Hermione gave him a grateful smile and watched him walk away. When the door was shut and a silencing charm was in place, she turned to face the confused Malfoy and the concerned McGonagall. "This is going to be hard to explain. Merlin, this is going to be hard to even say."

The Headmistress dropped her stern look and allowed the concern she was feeling to wash over her face. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

Draco just raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

Hermione almost tried to think of a reason for him to not hear this. Each time she tried, she came up empty. He deserved to know, damn it! The poor bloke nearly went to Azkaban Prison because he had tried to help her. The least she could do was tell him why.

Taking in a deep breath, Hermione resumed her chair and prepared to tell the long story of her life over the last year. "It started a few weeks after the war. I was celebrating with my parents."

"I remember those days." Draco said with a grimace, "Every bloody person was celebrating then."

McGonagall turned her stern eyes on Draco. "Language, Mr. Malfoy. And might I ask you to not interrupt again?"

"Sorry, Professor." He murmured, sitting back and crossing his arms.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "Right. Well, I was home with my parents when they told me I was due for my annual checkup. They're muggles, you see, so they still believed in a doctor's visit the muggle way. I was in much too good of a mood to argue with them, so I went. Unfortunately, it lasted much longer then I thought it would."

Draco noticed her body started to shake. Her eyes were brimming with tears as her knotted her hands together in nerves. Or possibly pain, he was unsure.

"Everything was fine until he noticed this bruise on my forearm. I just assumed it was left over from the war, so I told him I simply must have bumped it. He still seemed skeptical, so he ordered me a blood test. When it came back, it wasn't good." Hermione stopped to catch her breath. This was much harder then she thought it would be.

McGonagall sat up straighter, "What is it, Hermione?"

Draco raised an eyebrow; Hermione this time, not Granger. He had never heard the old Professor call a student by their first name in all his years at this school. He turned his eyes back to Hermione face. She was in obvious turmoil and he felt himself cringe at the sight. It was almost painful for him to see her like that.

Hermione felt the tears fall down her face before she could reach up and wipe them back. Trying to see through the thick tears filling her eyes, she let out a heartbreakingly sad smile. "I have cancer."

Draco's heart froze; he could no longer hear it beating. Cancer? No, that's not possible. Witches and wizards never got cancer. With all of the potions and spells they had around today it was almost impossible for anyone to have it. Sure, some were diagnosed with it, but they were given a potion and poof. They were better in seconds. Why, then, was this so hard on Granger? Certainly she must be taking some form of a cure!

McGonagall's face froze with her eyes wide in shock. "Cancer? What form?"

"Leukemia, Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia, to be honest." Her voice was soft, scared almost.

The headmistress nodded her head. She had heard of that before. "I see. This is what caused your collapse then?"

Hermione nodded and didn't speak. She seemed too busy trying to stop the tears from flowing.

Draco watched her, completely stunned. Out of everything he thought was wrong with her this was not even on the list. He had never heard of anyone living with cancer before and he wasn't sure what to think.

So, with his voice slightly stretched, he asked the question he was sure McGonagall was forcing herself not to ask. "Are you on any kind of treatment? Potions even?"

Hermione turned her dull, sad eyes on him. She smiled a little, "No. I'm not."

"Why not, dear?" McGonagall asked, looking about ready to jump out of her seat to comfort the young woman.

Hermione, letting out all of the air in her lungs, closed her eyes for a moment. This was always the hardest part to say. The pity that always flew into their eyes made it worse. She already knew she was going to die. Why did everyone have to make it worse for her?

"Granger?" Draco asked, his hand reaching out to sit on top of her knotted hands.

She opened her eyes and met his grey ones.

Hermione could see the concern there, hidden behind curiosity. "Yes?"

"Why aren't you on any treatments?" His voice was quiet, comforting. Draco never knew he could be comforting.

"I've stopped responding to treatments, Malfoy. There's nothing else anyone could do." She said, never taking her eyes off his.

Draco knew what that meant. He knew that she wasn't going to survive this cancer. He knew and yet he didn't want to know. He wanted her to be okay and he bloody well didn't know why! The next question he was going to ask he didn't want answered. But, he had to know. For some reason unbeknownst to him, his heart felt odd and desperately needed to know.

Looking to McGonagall, he saw the question in her glistening eyes as well. They both wanted to know. "How long?" His voice came out rough, almost as if he were choking.

And he felt like he was.

Looking into his eyes, Hermione said, with every ounce of certainty, "Less than two years."

For the first time in his life, Draco felt the first surge of heartbreak.


	10. Unfixable

**((Sorry for the wait. Classes and work have kept me busy. I hope you like!))**

* * *

**Chapter 9::  
**_Unfixable_

* * *

Life had never been more complicated.

Draco Malfoy used to think that everything made sense. Sure, he used to be a bad guy who was up to his neck in money and had all the minions he could ever ask for. Granted, when the war ended his father was thrown into Azkaban and the majority of their money was confiscated. Not to mention the small fact of him having his wand taken away for a year and then having to return to Hogwarts—his own personal hell. Despite his punishments, though, he pretty much had his life on track. He would carry out the rest of his sentence; go back to Hogwarts and get back his wand. When Hogwarts was over, who knew? Perhaps he would get a job at the ministry, if they let him. For the next ten years or so he would live as a loner with all the luxuries he could get under his belt all on his own.

Where had that dream gone?

Now, sitting in the now empty Slytherin common room, he knew that those plans no longer mattered. Ever since he heard Hermione Granger say she had less than two years to live, nothing seemed to matter. Why that was, he wasn't sure. To be honest, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Sitting by the fire, he felt the hot flames flick at his skin. Was the fire too hot? He didn't know… didn't care. His mind was still transfixed on the memory of the look in Hermione's eyes when she told him and McGonagall the terrible news. There was nothing there but sadness and surrender. The woman had actually given up. She saw no other way to survive, but to just die slowly while everyone watched her shrink away.

That infuriated him.

Out of every person he knew, she was the last person he would have expected to ever see give up. Hermione Granger was a fighter and fighters fight until the end. And yet, she wasn't. Suddenly, as he sat in the uncomfortable chair next to the Headmistress' desk, everything she had ever said to him made sense. He didn't understand the meaning behind the words, but he understood why _she_ understood them. She was dying. Her life was about to be taken away and that gave her some insight. Oh, how Draco wished he understood as well. From the moment she cried in front of them both while divulging her deepest secret, Draco knew he was a goner. Women crying were one thing, but the fierce protectiveness he has been feeling for his former enemy was another entirely.

Now, three days and many thoughts later, Draco knew what he had to do. He had to stay away from the witch. It was bad enough to get involved with her, but it was worse to know something that even her closest friends didn't know. That gave them a connection; one that Draco didn't want. Oh yes, he knew what he had to do. He had to stay away from her. This was her battle.

Not his.

* * *

The cold pane of glass beneath her forehead kept the headaches at bay. Hermione knew it wouldn't last long, but it would be enough until the train arrived at the station. If she knew her parents—which she did—they would have some pain killers for her in the car. She would just have to make it until then. Sounds easy, doesn't it? It wasn't. When you put the loud train, a happy Ron and Harry, and a perky Ginny together in one compartment, it wasn't easy. Hermione realized that the moment she sat down with them.

"You excited for Christmas holiday, Hermione?" Ginny asked, sitting across from her as the boys played Exploding Snaps.

Hermione fought to smile, feeling the headache pound behind her eyes, "I am, in fact. My parents and I are going skiing. Should be fun!"

Ok, fine, it was a lie. But, at least it was just a little one. As a tradition, Hermione almost always went skiing with her parents around Christmas time. This year, though, she suspected they would be sitting at the house and sitting next to the fire. This might very well be her last Christmas. Her family was going to enjoy it. No fierce competitions like before, just pure and lovely family time. She really couldn't wait for that.

Ginny laughed as Ron managed to burn off one of Harry's eyebrows. "I wish you could come to the Burrow." She said between giggles.

"I know I'm sorry." Hermione gave a small smile as she leaned her head back against the glass.

Ron took the quiet moment to speak, "Yeah, Hermione. George is finally coming out of his moping phase. He will actually be attending this year. Though, mum warned us to not say Fred's name. The woman's bloody scared he'll crawl back into his hole."

Hermione hated it when Ron became and insensitive jerk. "He wasn't in a hole, Ronald. George was merely in the shop making new products. If you think about it, at least he was actually throwing himself into something and dealing with the pain on his own time. I respect him for that, myself. And I don't think saying Fred's name would be such a bad thing. It would show that you all still think about him and that you understand how George feels."

Ron didn't say anything to that. In fact, he barely acknowledged what she said at all. Sighing, Hermione looked back out at the moving fields. Ron has not changed since school started four months ago. He was still the pouting child he was then. Why couldn't he just accept and get over the fact that she didn't want him in that way? Why was that so hard for him to comprehend? They had been friends for many years. Why would something that trivial change him so badly?

Sensing her friend's sadness, Ginny moved to sit next to Hermione. "I'm sorry that Ron is being such a git."

Hermione just shrugged. "It's alright, I suppose. I'm just hoping that he'll get over his little temper tantrums and just move on already."

Ginny laughed lightly, "Hermione, you do know this is Ron we are talking about, right?"

In response, Hermione joined in on the laughter. "Good point, Ginny. You're certainly right about that."

* * *

"Mum, Dad!" Hermione ran the ten feet to her parents, throwing herself into their warm embrace.

"Oh, my dear Mimi!" Her mother said, tears filling her eyes. "I'm so happy that you are home."

"How are you feeling, Pumpkin?" Her father asked, pulling back to get a look at her pale face and dull eyes.

Hermione smiled. "I'm fine, really. Just a little tired and my head hurts, but that's it; nothing too major."

Her mother was immediately rummaging in her oversized purse. Hermione almost cried when she pulled out a small water bottle and a bottle of Aspirin. "Here, love. Take this."

Hermione cracked the tiniest of smiles. "You did come prepared."

"We just remembered what the doctors said." Her father said, wrapping his arm around her as she waved goodbye to her friends.

"The doctors said a lot of things, Dad. But, I'm fine and thank you for the Aspirin, Mum." She closed her eyes as her mother kissed her forehead. There was nothing compared to the wonderful smell of her mother's perfume. It was the same perfume she used to smell as a child; a safety blanket in stressful times.

As they walked out of the train station, Hermione felt her heart jump around. She had been so happy to see her parents, that she didn't pace herself. She immediately felt her legs shake slightly as she lost her breath. The exhaustion was coming more and more often, causing her to tire easily and lose the will to be active. Each time it happened, she would push herself on. If she slowed down, people would notice. That was simply a risk she was willing to take. After Draco Malfoy's reaction, she wasn't very sure she'd be able to tell anyone for a long time.

Malfoy's reaction had wounded Hermione somewhat. It wasn't exactly what he did; it was the way he did it. After she had divulged this horrid secret to keep him out of Azkaban, he walked away. Literally, that is. As soon as McGonagall reassured the Aurors and Minister that it was no act of foul play, he left the study without a backwards glance. What confused her most was the mere fact that he had seemed so caring when she told him. He had even held her hand; a small action that enabled her to pull herself together long enough to get the truth out.

Why, then, did he leave so quickly without a single word? Even now, over two months later, he never even looked at her when he could help it. Granted, she could still feel his gaze when she wasn't looking. But, the moment she turned her head to catch his eye he would look away. The only knowledge that left her feeling a little secure was that he hadn't told anyone. She got the feeling there wouldn't be anyone for him to tell, anyway. None of the Slytherins even seemed to like the guy anymore. But, still. Just knowing that there was a guy—a wildcard, as it would seem—out there who knew before any of her friends? Well, that made her nervous. Harry, Ron, and Ginny would kill her if they knew that.

"Sweetheart?" Her mother called from the front seat.

Hermione looked around, somewhat startled. How had they gotten into the car without her realizing it? And how was she buckled in? "Yes, Mum?"

"Are you feeling alright, Mimi?" Her mother's voice was full of concern, as her eyes shined a little more with unshed tears.

Putting on a brave face and a bright smile, Hermione nodded her head. "I'm perfectly fine, Mum. Just lost my train of thought there for a bit."

Her father chuckled warmly, "You've been lost in your own world since we left the station. We thought we were bringing home a zombie instead of our only daughter."

Hermione heard the hidden depths beneath her parents' laughter. They were sad, hurt even. It pained them to joke about her being their only daughter. It would just remind them of just what they were losing. They weren't just losing a child. They were losing their _only_ child. She was all they had; she meant the world to them. When she was gone, there would be no more world for them. All that would be left is a void. A void, Hermione knew, she would have to convince them to fill once she passed on.

As the car pulled up to their grand home on the lake, Hermione smiled as she got out of the car. There was truly no place like home.

* * *

"Harry?" Ginny asked, playing with the zipper on her jumper.

Harry, who was sitting next to her in the Weasley Garden, noticed her thoughtful expression. "Yes, love?"

Ginny wasn't sure if she was overreacting or not. However, that didn't stop her from dwelling for the last few hours. "Have you noticed anything off about Hermione lately?"

Staring out across the garden to the sunset, he thought to himself. He, in fact, had noticed something strange about his best friend. Not only was she quieter then she used to be, but she didn't even go to the library anymore; not when she didn't have to, that is. If there was anything he thought he knew about Hermione, it was the fact that she practically lived in the library. It was by far her favorite place to go. So, her not going at all was a big deal.

"Yes, now that you mention it, I have." Suddenly, he found himself feeling guilty for not noticing before.

Ginny nodded. It was a relief that she wasn't the only one that has noticed her usually full of life friend turned into a girl who was just getting by. "Good. I've been noticing for a while, but I can't bring myself to say anything. For some reason I don't understand, I get the feeling that if I ask she'll break."

Harry nodded as he listened. The whole time she spoke, his mind was trying to wrap itself around the reasons why he hadn't noticed. Had he been too busy with Ginny to notice? That just wasn't acceptable. Hermione was his best friend, the girl who he went to for everything, the one who had saved his life on multiple occasions. This was how he paid her back? Not giving her the attention she deserved?

A picture appeared in his head; one he instantly knew as Hermione on the train earlier that day. Examining the memory closely, small things jumped out at him; her thinner face, bruising beneath the eyes, paler skin, and exhausted appearance. Everything about her was only slightly different. Most were so miniscule that it was easily overlooked. The way she smiled, for instance. It no longer touched her eyes. This was nothing like the Hermione he has known since first year. This was someone new; someone who was hurting and slowly wasting away.

"Bloody hell, Ginny." He looked up into her eyes, feeling in his gut that there was something wrong that he had been missing for months. "Why didn't we notice?"

She smiled sadly at her fiancé. "Maybe it's time we let her know we have finally noticed."

* * *

The morning after she first arrived home from Hogwarts, Hermione stretched the kinks out of her back. It was nice sleeping in her bed for a change; her warm, comfortable, familiar bed. Well, aside from the spring now poking its way into her bum. Giggling, she hopped out of bed and into the shower. If she was fast enough, she could have breakfast with her parents before they went to the Dentist Office today. After much discussion, Hermione had finally convinced her parents to go to work together. Normally, one would go and the other would stay to watch her. She was a grown woman, for Merlin's sake. She could handle being alone.

Sliding on a long, blue dress that reached her feet, she hopped down the stairs barefoot with wet hair. This was her vacation, after all. She could afford to be completely comfortable. Walking into the warm kitchen, she inhaled the wonderful scent that filled the air. Blueberry waffles always smelled amazing, no matter what time of the day. Smiling at her parents, her sashayed her way to the fridge and pulled out the carton of orange juice to go with her waffles.

Noting her smiling face, her father smiled over his cup of coffee. "You're in a good mood this morning, Hermione."

She smiled wider. "That I am. Not only am I on break, but it's a beautiful morning and I get to have my favorite breakfast with the two people I love the most in this world. What reason would I have not to smile?"

Her father looked down as she heard her mother catch her breath slightly. Hermione, not letting the suddenly tense moment ruin her good morning, grabbed a glass from the cabinet and sad across from her dad, "On second thought, don't answer that."

It had the desired effect; her parents laughed at her buoyant humor. "Love?" Her mother sad a stack of waffles in front of her, followed by the heated syrup. "Don't forget your vitamins."

Sighing, Hermione jumped back up and got her prescribed vitamins from their bottles. All this pill swallowing really annoyed her. Why couldn't she just take potions like any normal witch? Oh right, because she was muggleborn and her parents were muggles. If anything, she wanted to make them happy.

"So, you both excited to go to work?" Hermione said around a mouthful of waffle.

Her parents looked at each other before looking back at her. "Well, Hermione," her father started, "We wanted to talk to you about that—"

"Don't even start, Dad." She said, taking a sip from her juice. "You are both going. I'm a big girl. Besides, if I need help, I promise to call you."

Her mother looked strained, but didn't comment. Instead, she just continued to scrub the dishes.

"Mimi?" Her father said, setting down his coffee cup and newspaper. "There is another thing we wanted to discuss with you."

Hearing her husband's words, Mrs. Granger walked to the table and sat next to him, looping her arm through his. "Yes, and we would like you to keep an open mind, dear."

This never was a good start. Hermione knew that the moment these words were said, it was to be a very bad discussion. Setting down her fork and pushing away what was left of her breakfast, she nodded her head. "My mind is open."

Her mother was the one to speak. "While you were away, Hermione, we looked around for answers. We didn't want your…condition… to take you from us. So, we went from doctor to doctor to try and find a solution."

Hermione felt her throat constrict. This was definitely not a good conversation. She hated it when her parents got like this. It would just end up being more needles, more pills, and more pain. She didn't want that, but she would hear them out anyway. She felt that she owed them that much, at least.

Her father took it from there. "It took a while, but we soon found a doctor in the states. Her name is Dr. Maria Spencer. She comes highly recommended and when we called her, she said she had some new ideas that we could try."

Hermione remained silent. She already knew what she was going to say to them, but she wanted to put it off for as long as possible. It would just break their hearts. So, she just nodded and signaled for them to continue.

"The catch," her mother said, squeezing her husband's hand. "Is that we would have to move to America. The treatment center is a live-in facility where families move into little cottages. It allows you to be nearby for treatments." She smiled, tears filling her hazel eyes, "This is great news, love. This means you have a chance at beating this… condition."

The tears were welling up in her mother's eyes, causing Hermione's heart to race. Looking down at her hands, she wished she could agree to everything her parents were telling her. She wished she could smile and jump for joy. But, she couldn't. She wouldn't.

"So, what do you say, Mimi?" Her mother asked, looking her in the eye.

"I say no." Hermione said quietly.

Silence followed as her mother tried to comprehend what she was saying. Her father, on the other hand, heard it loud and clear. "I don't think you understand, Mimi."

She shook her head. She understood perfectly. "No, Daddy, I understand perfectly. But, my answer is still no."

Finally letting it sink in, her mother's smile fell and the tears came with it. "Hermione, you must! This could save your life."

"No, Mum, it can't."

"You don't know that—"

"Yes, I do." Hermione said, interrupting her now crying mother. "I know that it would be pointless. Mum and Dad, you two are amazing and I love you so much. But, I don't just have a cold that can be remedied by a visit to some specialist. I have leukemia."

Her parents flinched at the word. "Hermione, please don't say that word." Her father said, gripping his wife's hand.

"I'm not afraid of the word, Dad. I have leukemia. I've had leukemia for over a year. It's time that you stop treating this like a problem that can be fixed—"

"It _can_ be fixed!" Her mother said, her voice high with hysterics.

"No, Mum," Hermione whispered, lifting her hand to rest it on her mothers. "It can't. We've been told by dozens of doctors that it can't. We all know the treatments that this new doctor would give me will be pointless. My body has stopped responding and just won't accept the treatments."

"Hermione Jean Granger, we won't let you die!" Her father said, louder than he intended.

Hermione wanted to scream as pain flicked her rapidly beating heart. "You're not letting me. If there is anything that I have realized in the past year it's that this isn't something we can control. I'm dying. I've met peace with that. You guys should too."

"Please, Mimi," her mother wept, "Please, try this one last time."

She just shook her head. "I don't want to be put through any more treatments or tests. No more poking, examining, or appointments. Please, can I just spend these last months of my life in peace? Can't you please just be there for me? The only thing I need is you two and my friends. Please, I beg you. Don't take that away from me."

Silence followed her words, her parents holding onto each other as they cried. Hermione hated what she was doing to them. It hurt her so much to know the pain she was putting them through, but she couldn't do anything else. Every word she had said had been true. She was dying and they all knew it. It was just time they all accepted it.

Kissing his wife on the forehead, her father felt his wife nod her head. Hermione saw the sadness in his eyes, but also something new. She immediately recognized it; for she saw it in the mirror every day. Acceptance and surrender. "Alright, love."

Her mother turned her wet face in her daughter's direction, "Come here."

Hermione watched as her mother slid to the seat to her left, leaving a chair free between the two of her parents. Smiling slightly, Hermione walked around the table and sat between them. At both sides, her parents hugged her tightly as she closed her eyes. Yes, there was no other feeling in the world that could beat this.

Off in the distance, she heard an owl hoot.


	11. Falling for Her

**((Chapter 10! I love writing this story so much. Please review! I love reviews!))**

* * *

**Chapter 10::  
**_Falling for Her_

* * *

Christmas holiday had turned out great for Hermione. Her parents went back to work together, but still took some days off to spend time with her. Even when they didn't spend time together, Hermione enjoyed the alone time. It gave her the opportunity to make plans. Plans, she knew, her parents would need. On Christmas, after exchanging gifts, her and her parents had sat on the couch under a blanket watching old movies together until the next morning. It was perfect in every way.

Well, unless she counted the letter she had received from Harry and Ginny the day after Christmas holiday started. That had taken down her joy a notch or two. When she had first received it she was touched. Her two best friends had finally taken the time to notice her. Granted, they always noticed her, but it must have taken a lot of thought to realize how sick she was. The signs really weren't that obvious. However, at the end of the letter, the sentimental feeling evaporated into pure terror. They had noticed and expected her to tell them what was going on. That left her one option. She had to tell them. Otherwise, they wouldn't stop prying and pushing.

Besides, how could she possibly lie to her best friends?

So, now, as she ran through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, she could feel her knees shake. Perhaps she should've taken her parents advice and just stayed home. Instead of being nauseas with fear, she could be sitting on her couch right now and getting her fill of her favorite television shows. But, no, she had to be a glutton for punishment and telling her best friends was certainly punishment. Even as she crossed the platform, her new boots clicking across the concrete, she could hear her knees shake. She didn't even think that was possible, but it was.

She boarded the train and walked anxiously to the compartment they usually occupied. Shaking the whole way, she felt like she was on the way to face her demise. That certainly made her feel odd, it did. Normally, her friends evoked a pleasant response. Now they were having the opposite effect. Instead of being happy at the thought of seeing her friends, she was mortified. She was about to tell two of the most important people in her life that she was dying.

Nothing in the world was harder than that.

Reaching the compartment, her hand touched the cool medal of the door handle. Through the glass, she saw Harry and Ginny cuddled together on the seat. Hermione watched as they laced their hands, Ginny resting her head on her shoulder; a sweet and loving smile on her face. Her heart ached when she saw Harry rest his chin on the top her head, playing with the ring on his fiancé's finger. The pure contentment she saw in his eyes about broke her heart. They were a picture of ease and love; a sight that—though she would never admit it out loud—she would give anything to be a part of someday.

Knowing it was now or never, Hermione slid open the door and stepped in to interrupt the couple. While it pained her to know she was about to ruin their perfect world, she couldn't help but feel relieved that Ron wasn't there with them. "Hey, guys."

Ginny lifted her head at her voice, her hand still in Harry's. "Hermione!"

Harry, noting his best friend's anxious appearance, felt a pull to comfort her. So, giving into the urge, he detached himself from Ginny and pulled Hermione in for a fierce hug. When he felt her squeeze back, he buried his face in her neck. Every inch of him was still feeling the intense guilt that was brought on by his realization of neglect. After everything that this wonderful witch had done for him, he didn't notice that she needed him; that something was wrong. How could he do that and still call himself her friend?

Hermione, graciously returning the hug, felt the sudden urge to cry. After all of these months, Harry and Ginny figured her out. All of this time, she thought she was so careful. She thought she could pull it all off. And yet, as she wrapped her arms around his waist, only to feel Ginny hugging her from the back, part of her was glad she no longer had to. These two loved her and had a right to know. If anything, they could help her through it; help her cope. With that thought fresh in her mind, she gave into temptation and started to cry.

Ginny didn't know what possessed her to hug Hermione from behind. Maybe it was just the look on her best friend's face when she walked into the compartment; the look that was filled with pain and sorrow. Even hugging Harry didn't fully take the pain away from her eyes. So, instead of waiting her turn to hug Hermione, she walked around the two and hugged her from behind. Hermione looked like she needed a lot of human contact right now. She would give it to her. Whatever she was going through must have been terrible.

Breaking away, Hermione was led to a seat by Harry. He sat next to her, holding her hand as Ginny did the same on her other side. Neither of them spoke as they waited for Hermione's tears to subside. She would talk when she was ready. They were just happy she was going to tell them what was wrong. Whatever it was, they would work through it together and everything would be fine.

Too bad they were wrong.

Wiping away her tears, Hermione turned her blurry eyes to Harry and then to Ginny. "Sorry to get all weepy on you two." Her voice cracked.

Ginny laughed lightly. "Oh, it's quite alright. We can handle a good cry here and there."

"That's right. You can cry on us whenever you need to." Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his other hand in hers.

Trying to put off the inevitable, she asked, "Where's Ronald?"

Ginny and Harry exchanged a glance. "He won't be coming back until a little later, Mione." Harry said, unsure as to how she will react.

Raising an eyebrow, curiosity took a hold of her. "Why is that?"

Ginny giggled lightly at the irony. "While we were visiting WWW, he ate a piece of candy George had in the stockroom."

"Ok?"

"Well, what he didn't know was that they were candies made by George." Harry said, thinking she would understand.

She didn't. "Ok. What does that have to do with him not being here?"

Ginny laughed at the memory of Ron's face right before they left that morning. "Well, the candies were invented by George for the shop. They're meant to transform the person eating them into a Kneazle for a few hours."

At this, Hermione had to laugh. "So, let me get this straight. Ron is sitting at home as a Kneazle?"

Harry nodded. "The formula wasn't complete. George and Percy have only been working on them for a few weeks so they haven't worked it out yet. So, instead of being a Kneazle for a few hours, he'll be stuck as one for a few weeks."

Hermione was laughing so hard, at this rate, that she had to be careful to not fall out of the seat. "That's bloody brilliant!"

The three friends enjoyed laughing at their furry little friend. The irony was not lost on them either. After being such a git the last few weeks, it was about time he got taught a lesson. Even if it was just an accidental lesson, it would work for them either way.

"Thanks for that, you two." Hermione said, smiling at her two friends. "I needed it."

At hearing her crestfallen voice, Ginny couldn't help but ask. "What's wrong, Mione? What have you been keeping from us?"

Harry just took Hermione's hand again. She didn't need to hear the question twice.

Hermione nodded her head. It was time they were told. She just hoped that they didn't treat her different. "Can you two promise me something?"

Harry nodded, Ginny following suit.

"Promise me that you won't treat me any different. Promise that you will still treat me like the same old Hermione." Her voice was strong, unwavering. What do you know?

Harry, exchanging a glance with Ginny, nodded his head. "Of course. No matter what it is, you'll still be Hermione."

Ginny just nodded and watched her friend's face.

"Very well." She clutched their hands tighter.

"I have leukemia."

Here was the moment of truth. She was finally going to tell them the hardest part of all. Hermione prayed they wouldn't fall apart.

"I'm dying."

* * *

No words were spoken as Hermione finished her story. She told them everything; the doctors, the treatments, Malfoy, all of it. They never interrupted, never yelled. All they did was hold her hand and listen. She loved them for that. It was by far the best thing they could have done for her.

Now, as she stared at the floor, she waited for them to speak. Ginny's head was on Hermione's shoulder, her hand rubbing her arm. Harry was silent, though he had continued to squeeze her hand. They were trying to let it all sink it, to believe it. After everything, this was nothing like what they had expected her to say. This was different, a silent killer. It was one that they couldn't fight and Hermione knew that that was going to be the worse part for Harry.

The silence seemed to stretch on as the train continued towards the school. Hermione was comforted by their squeezes and touches. It kept her from having yet another crying fit. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you two. It's just not something that's easy to say."

Ginny sighed and Hermione could hear the silent cries her best friend was trying to obscure. With tears in her own eyes, she leaned her head against Ginny's and clutched her hand. "It's ok, Gin. I right here."

Nodding her head, Ginny wrapped her arms around her best friend, clutching her tightly as she let the tears fall. This just could not be true. This just couldn't be possible. Hermione meant the world to Ginny. She was her best friend, the girl that she could talk to about everything. Feeling Hermione circled her arms around her as well, Ginny cried her heart out.

Harry was frozen and unable to speak. Nothing felt real to him since Hermione came clean. This had to be false. It just had to be. The three continued to hold onto each other, Hermione trying really hard not to cry and she felt Harry hug her back, tears falling from his own eyes. She had known that this would be the hardest part of her cancer. Telling those she loved was proving to be the worst experience in her whole life.

"I'm so sorry, Mione." Harry whispered against her back.

Hermione just nodded and didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. She was dying and they knew it. They had nothing to be sorry about; she'd made peace with it.

Ginny pulled back, wiping the tears off of her face. "How long, Hermione?"

Hermione knew that question was coming sooner or later. That didn't make it any less painful, however. "Less than two years."

Ginny started sobbing harder this time, her harsh cries echoing through the compartment. Since she couldn't reach her wand, Hermione was glad when Harry cast a silencing charm around them. They didn't need to worry about being heard. They just sat there, clutching onto each other for dear life… or what little life Hermione had left.

* * *

Draco was walking down the small hallway of the train when he first heard the cries. They were loud and full of such pain that Draco was almost knocked into the wall. Pulling out his wand, he raced down the hall, only to get confused when the crying suddenly stopped. Coming to a halt, he put his wand away, kind of annoyed that he had gotten so riled up to begin with. Whoever was crying didn't concern him. Therefore, he didn't care enough to rush to their aid.

Rolling his eyes, he made to turn; his eyes falling on a compartment. Looking inside, what he saw nearly took the breath right out of his lungs. In the compartment, where he suddenly decided the crying had come from, were Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and the Weaselette. It wasn't Hermione who was crying like he had thought when he first glanced. It was Ginny Weasley, who had her arms clutching around Hermione with a death grip. Thinking she must have gotten hurt or something, he made to turn away. As he did so, he noted Harry Potter clutching onto Granger as well, from the back. Unsure of what to think, he finally understood what he was seeing.

She had finally told them. The know-it-all stubborn bookworm had finally told her friends that she was dying. Feeling the urge to go comfort her, he shook it off. He had managed to spend the majority of Christmas Holiday without thinking of her. Well, ok, maybe only a fourth of the time not thinking about her, but it was all the same to him. It didn't matter if he thought about her until deep into the night. It didn't matter that his heart would clench whenever he thought of her suffering. And it really didn't matter that he was falling for her, but refused to admit it.

No, it didn't matter at all.

* * *

Hermione saw Malfoy looking at her; saw the torn look on his face. She knew that look. He was stuck between asking what was wrong and just walking away. He'd had that same face before. Several times, in fact; each time being when she was in some sort of tangle; when he'd followed her before she collapsed, when she saw him for the first time after awaking, and several other times after that.

Part of her wanted him to walk in; to tell her that he was sorry for running out and ignoring her for months. Although, the other part of her wanted nothing more than to turn her back on him. He wasn't a good guy and she knew it. But, why couldn't she get his face out of her mind when she was falling to sleep at night? Why couldn't she stop wondering if he was thinking about her?

She knew the answers to these questions, she did. She just didn't want to think about them. If he wanted to act as if she didn't exist, that was fine. She could play that game. As she met his eyes in a defiant way, he walked away, without even throwing a smirk at her. That in and of itself was odd to her. His smirking was like her love for books or roses. It was an ingrown characteristic. He must have really been peeved. But, she didn't want to think about that. Instead, she focused her attention of her two best friends; clutching onto her tightly. They were both still crying, still fighting what she had told them. They would let go eventually. Until then, she held onto them both.

All the while, she was unaware that the Black Magic in her hair was glistening.


	12. Freewill

**((Sorry about the wait. Here it is! Good news! They finally kiss!!! REVIEW!!))**

* * *

**Chapter 11::  
**_Freewill_

* * *

"Hermione, you have to tell Ron." Harry said as he ran to catch up to her.

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry about this. They've been back at school for two months now and the need to tell Ron was just getting more and more fierce every day. "I know, Harry. I know. I just don't know when I'm going to."

And it was true. She really wanted to tell Ron, but she wasn't sure if she could. Ever since she told Harry and Ginny they have kept their eyes on her; annoyingly so. She could practically go nowhere without them watching her every second. They claimed it was because they were just worried about her. Hermione knew the truth. They were worried she was going to talk to Draco Malfoy again; that maybe she would sneak out to see him; which that thought in and of itself was ridiculous. Not only had he been ignoring her since she came clean to save his skin, but because of the way he is around her. He acts as if she's trying to kill him or something.

Funnily enough, right then that didn't seem like a bad idea…

Harry sighed, trying to keep up with her as they walked to Herbology. "Fine, but can you please make it soon? I mean you don't..." He stopped himself and cleared his throat. "He just needs to know is all."

Though he had tried to hide it, Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about. She did not look good at all. Her illness was really started to take over her body bit by bit. In fact, she was so disturbed by it that she tried to not look in the mirrors anymore unless it's totally necessary. It was no secret to everyone that she had noticeably lost a lot of weight, since it was required that she shrink her uniform here and there. Even her skin seemed paler, translucent. Her eyes were sinking in, giving her the sunken-eye look. She didn't like it, not one bit. Every day that went by she saw herself getting worse and worse.

Hermione was fading a lot faster then she thought she would.

Not only was it physical effects, but it went deeper than that; a lot deeper. She was finding it difficult to get around, her exhaustion preventing her from retreating to the common room often due to the many stairs she'd have to climb. There had been many times where she couldn't even go to lessons that day; deciding to stay in bed if the cold sweats and body tremors were too bad. Food didn't even sound to appealing anymore and her spleen was severely enlarged, as Madam Pomphrey put it.

Yes, Hermione Granger was in a bad way. Deep down, she knew what was to happen. She was going to die sooner than she thought. If she kept progressing this way, it would be very soon. She couldn't tell her friends that though. Harry and Ginny already never left her side. If she told them the truth—though, she had a good idea they could tell for themselves—they would never leave her side. That was why she didn't tell them to begin with; she didn't need them abandoning their lives for her.

Now, it seemed that Ron was going to get involved as well. Ever since he had returned from his stint as a Kneazle, he had been very pleasant. He had even apologized to Hermione for the way he had been acting. Hermione merely hugged him and said that all was forgiven. Ever since, he had been trying to find time to spend with her; something Hermione suspected was Harry's doing. But, she'd always had to turn him down in fears that he would notice. He had always been obtuse, that one. Luckily for her, he couldn't even notice her deteriorating.

"Ok, Harry." She stopped and turned to her best friend, noting his misting eyes as he looked her up and down. "I'll tell him soon. Just, please, give me a day or so. Alright?"

Harry just nodded his head and didn't argue. It was painful enough for him to see her wasting away so he had no intentions of fighting with her. Not when he could tell they didn't have very much time left. As they walked into Herbology, Harry sat next to her as close as he possibly could. Ever since she told him, he had remained as close as he could. He had lost so many of the people that he loved that he was not willing to let go of Hermione. So much so, that he had been working with Madam Pomphrey late at night trying to find a cure for her. After everything his best friend has done for him in the war, he had always seen her as a pillar of strength; the one person in his life that would never go anywhere. It was almost too painful to consider that what was taking her away from him was something he couldn't fight.

But, he would. He was Harry bloody Potter. He would find a cure for her. Even if it was the last thing he would do.

* * *

Everyone could see that Hermione Granger was getting worse. Draco, himself, noticed before anyone else did. As to why that was, he didn't know. All he did know was that she was, and it was hurting him deeply.

Ever since school resumed, Draco had been unable to get her out of his mind. At first, he had tried to distance himself from her in hopes that the strange and unwanted feelings that she rose in him would disappear. Now he could tell that wasn't working. Instead, it was having the opposite effect. It just made him want to see her, talk to her, and be around her even more. In classes he would walk by her table just to smell her fragrance. She smelled wonderful to him and that just disturbed him some more. Needless to say, he was hopeless.

Sitting in the Great Hall at dinnertime, he noticed her picking at her food, not really eating any of it. That is, she wasn't until she got a stern look from Potter. Next to her was the dumb Ron Weasley. He just chatted away and never even noticed his ailing friend. Draco snorted into his pumpkin juice when Weaslebee whispered something in her ear. At her laugh, he felt the fierce urge to punch the pitiful excuse for a pureblood. Jealousy rose in him and nearly made him crush his goblet in his hand. That was the final straw. From then on out, the two of them needed to get something straight. He needed to talk to her and get her to understand that she needed to stop giving him these bizarre feelings.

Yes, he and Granger needed to have a very serious discussion.

* * *

Hermione laughed at what Ron whispered into her ear. He was telling her a story about what happened over break. Apparently, he and George had walked in on Harry and Ginny snogging in their father's shed. Just the thought of the look that was no doubt on her best friends faces was enough to make her clutch her stomach as the painful laughs kept coming. In her mind, Hermione kept thinking about how nice it was to finally have Ron to talk to.

However, the other part of her mind kept telling her that she needed to tell him the truth. It just kept coming up in her mind ever since dinner started. If she wasn't next to Ron, she would smack Harry over the head for pressuring her so hard. It was his entire fault it was continuously on her mind! If he didn't remind her day in and day out that she needed to tell him as well, she wouldn't be in this painful dilemma. Okay, that's not true. He did pressure her a lot, but it was a necessary pressuring. If he didn't she would never tell Ron.

As she and Ron kept playfully mocking Harry and Ginny, she felt eyes staring into her back. She recognized the feeling immediately and didn't have to turn around to know who it was. So, Draco Malfoy was staring at her again? Well, at least he's not completely trying to ignore her presence. Sighing, she sat up from the table and excused herself. She didn't want to be stared at by the guy who treated her like she was contagiously diseased. Hermione already had enough problems.

Making her way to the common room, she felt her knees start to shake. This was a bad sign. When this typically happened, the tremors were close by. If she didn't get to her room quick enough, she might not make it there without passing out. The other students of this school were already talking enough as it was due to her appearance. She certainly didn't need to give them any more ammo. So, she pushed herself to climb the stairs and eventually made it to the dorms. No one was back from dinner quite yet, which gave her to time to lean against the wall. Her breathing was becoming labored, which was an even worse sign then the shaking knees.

She needed to make it to her bed. Now.

The stairs to the dorms looked incredibly steep to Hermione. Refusing to give up, however, she forced one foot up. Her knees nearly gave as she balanced herself. She was almost there. Using all her strength, she got one leg up after another. Finally, she laughed slightly as she reached the dorms, rushing as fast as she could to her bed. She barely hit the pillows when she finally succumbed to the dark abyss circling over her head.

* * *

Ginny stood up with her fiancé as everyone started to filter out of the Great Hall. Dinner was over and everyone was retreating to their rooms for the night. There was one witch in particular that Ginny was deeply concerned about. "Harry, I'm worried."

Harry, taking her hand, nodded his head. "I am too, Gin."

"What can we do? Madam Pomphrey is still working on the cure, but she doesn't predict for the cure to be ready for a few more months and Hermione..." she couldn't bring herself to finish.

"I know, Ginny. " And he did. Hermione didn't look good and spent most of her time in bed doing homework or writing notes to her folks. Harry knew deep down she didn't have a lot of time left.

It didn't take an incredibly smart person to know that Hermione was sick. People came up to him and Ginny daily to ask what was wrong with the brightest witch in the age. Every time they gave the same answer. She was ill and didn't feel well. However, after the last month that excuse wasn't working anymore. No illness in the wizarding world lasted that long unless it was serious. Everyone knew that and the most painful part for Harry was that he knew Hermione knew that. He knew she could feel their pitying glances all day and constantly saw how they avoided her like the plague. More importantly, he saw her will to live fading more and more in her eyes. Now, they weren't just dull.

They were empty.

"Let's get some sleep, love." He said, kissing his fiancé on the forehead. "Tomorrow we will go to Madam Pomphrey. Maybe we can all come up with something."

Merlin, did he hope so.

* * *

Ron wasn't an idiot. He knew something was wrong with Hermione. He knew she was keeping something from him. He wasn't blind and could easily see her illness. For Merlin's sake, it's not hard to see. But, something no one understood was that he also noticed the way she would look at their fellow classmates with pain in her eyes. They were avoiding her and she knew it was because she was sick. That was the reason why he hadn't been treating her any different. She needed at least one person in her life to treat the same as they always did.

His time as a Kneazle gave him some perspective. Hermione didn't love him the way he loved her. While that hurt him a lot more then he cared to admit, it was still true. The more he pushed her away, the bigger the chance that he would lose her. And while he really wanted her to tell him what was wrong, he would wait.

She'd tell him in her own time.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned, the pain in her side getting worse and worse.

Everyone around her was sound asleep, causing her to keep her whimpers and cries silent. She might be hurting, but she didn't want anyone to know about it. Especially Ginny; since the girl had already moved her bed to be unbearably close to Hermione's. Apparently, she had intended to watch Hermione through the night just in case she needed anything. Luckily enough, she dozed off long before the pain started. She loved Ginny to pieces, but she couldn't stand it when they babied her.

Standing out of bed, she was glad to note that her strength had fully returned, the only thing wrong being the pain in her side. Nevertheless, she limped over to the spacious window next to her bed and stared out. None of the stars were visible in the sky as the dark grey clouds covered their bright shines. Clutching her side in obvious agony, she felt her lungs burn slightly. Granted, she knew that it wasn't her illness that caused such a reaction. It was psychosomatic. She needed to get air, needed to be outside. So, ignoring the pain, she pulled a nice pair of sweats over her shorts, leaving her tank top alone as she slid her shoes on. It was a warm night, so she didn't need a cloak.

What she did need was to be under her tree.

* * *

It was dark; the clouds preventing all light from shining down.

With her wand in one hand, Hermione gazed across the lake from under her tree. Upon arrival, she had sent a few globes of light overhead so she could see. The light was mute and not very bright, but it was enough for her to see twenty feet around where she sat. The soft waves of the Black Lake were barely noticeable from where she was sitting, even with the light overhead. Now and then, she would see the giant squid lift its tentacles out of the depths. Most people would think it was dangerous out here in the dark, and they were probably right. However, that didn't matter to Hermione. She was dying anyway, so a little danger wouldn't kill her.

Hermione had been out there for a few hours, trying to come to terms with the fact that she didn't have as much time as she thought she did. She was dying, her body fading faster and faster. If she had to put a time on it, she would say she only had about four months left before her body gave out. Four months to say her goodbyes, when no one even really knew yet.

A thunder clap sounded overhead, warning of an impending storm; telling her that it was time to head back to the dorms. Part of Hermione didn't want to move; just wanted to sit until the rain came pouring down. Who knew, maybe the rain could wash away her cancer. However, when another louder thunder clap sounded overhead, she figured now might be a good of time as any to head back. So, sliding her wand into her pocket, she stood up and stretched, thankfully that the pain in her side had faded to a dull ache.

She hadn't even taken one step when she heard a voice break through the silence.

"Hasn't anyone told you not to go out by yourself after dark?"

Sighing, she turned towards the voice, "Yes, but they also told me to not play with criminals. Seems I've failed on both accounts."

Draco laughed lightly as he came forward from the shadows, ten feet from where she was standing. "It seems you have."

"So," Hermione crossed her now shaking arms as the thunder continued to rumble. "You finally decided to stop ignoring me now?"

He raised an eyebrow, barely visible in the dim light. "Why, has the great Hermione Granger missed my wondrous presence?"

She frowned, "Oh, right, Malfoy. I missed being near you. Keep telling yourself that."

He smirked. "I will, Granger. I will."

Sighing, she took a step forward, "As much as I love our thrilling conversation, I think its best I retreat to my dorm."

"Not quite yet, Granger." He said, stepping toward her to prevent her from going back to the school.

A cold raindrop hit her nose, more hitting her forehead. "Not now, Malfoy, it's starting to rain. I would like to get inside before I catch a cold."

"This won't take long, Granger, I assure you." He crossed his arms as the rain started to fall.

Hermione felt her hair get wet as it began to pour. "What do you want from me, Malfoy?"

He took a step forward. "Why are you so anxious to get away from me all of the sudden?"

She wanted to scream in frustration. "Well, excuse me for not being excited to talk to you, Malfoy. After all, you were the one who's been treating me like I'm invisible or something."

"I have not been treating you like your invisible, Granger." He said, getting angry.

"Yes, you bloody well have, Malfoy!" She took a step forward, her hand clutched to her sides in fists. "You were the first person I told that I was dying. Do you have any idea how hard that was?! How hard it was for me to come clean about something I didn't want anyone to know? And when I did tell you—to save your undeserving arse—what did you do? You got up and walked out! It was as if you didn't care whether or not I was dying. And, even if you don't, have you any idea what that did to me? It made me not want to tell anyone for fear of them walking out on me! That was bloody painful, Malfoy!"

"Well, what the bloody hell did you want me to do, Granger? Wrap my arms around you and tell you it was going to be okay? I couldn't do that and you know it! We're bloody enemies—"

She interrupted him, taking another step closer. "No, we are not enemies, Malfoy. We haven't been since that moment on the train. You said so yourself that I was the only person who wasn't treating you like a bloody Death Eater!"

He growled in anger, throwing his hands up. "This isn't about me being your bloody enemy, Granger!"

"Then what the hell is it about, you daft moron!?" She screamed back.

"It's about you. I want you to stop!" He shouted, now standing two feet away from her.

"Stop what!?! I don't know what the bloody hell you are talking about!?" She stomped her foot in exasperation.

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I really don't!"

"Stop playing dumb, Granger! Just stop!"

"Stop what? Just spit it out, you foul pathetic ferret!"

"These feelings, Granger! Make me stop _feeling_ for you!" He shouted in her face.

Surprise replaced her rage as she stared at Draco Malfoy. He felt for her? Her eyes widened as she looked into his stormy ones, not even hearing the thunder overhead. Was he telling the truth? From the look in his eyes, she got her answer. Bloody hell…

Draco Malfoy actually _felt_ for her.

"You have feelings for me?" Her voice was surprised.

He snorted. "Don't sound so surprised, Granger. You did this to me after all and I want you to take it back."

"I didn't do anything to you, Malfoy." She said with her voice still low from shock.

He laughed darkly, "Don't lie to me, I know you did. Why else would I feel this way?"

She lifted her hand and wiped the wet hair from her face as the rain continued to fall. "What way, exactly?"

"As if you don't know! The constant thoughts about you, the way my heart races when I see you, and how I hurt when I see the pain you're in. You must have given me something and I want the antidote." He was quiet as he spoke, deadly.

Hermione didn't know what to say. Draco Malfoy was telling her he was in love with her. He just didn't understand that. The worst part, however, was that she thought she felt the same way.

"I assure you, Malfoy, that I didn't give you anything." Her voice was still quiet.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure. Then where do you suppose they came from? Freewill?"

"No, I don't." She smirked. "There's no such thing as freewill when you fall in love with someone."

Draco froze. She did not just say that to him. "I am NOT in love with you, Granger!"

Hermione laughed, "Right. Then what do you suppose it is? I certainly didn't give you anything, so it bloody well isn't my fault!"

"Lies!" He snarled, now not even a foot away from her.

She rolled her eyes, "You are such a bloody fool!"

"Don't call me a fool, you filthy Mudblood!?"

She took another step forward. "Take that back, you loathsome momma's boy!" She screamed at him.

"I hate you!" He shouted, thunder clapping as he did so.

"Well, not as much as I hate you, Malfoy!" Hermione screamed, blinking the water out of her eyes.

Snarling, neither of them spoke. Draco had the urge to curse _her_ while Hermione had the urge to punch _him_ again like she did in third year. The rain kept pouring and the storm continued to rage on as they stared each other with fierce hatred. But, what neither of them wanted the other to know was that love was hidden deep beneath the hate. After all, it was that love that gave them the passion to fight to begin with...

And it was that love that sent Draco's lips crashing down onto Hermione's.


	13. Rejection

**((Here's another chapter! Please review!!))**

* * *

**Chapter 12::  
**_Rejection_

* * *

Hermione felt Draco's lips crashing onto hers in one swift moment. It was a rough kiss; one full of passion and need. Before she could even pull back to slap him, her body gave into temptation; latching itself onto him. What could she say? The guy could _**kiss!**_ Every part of her was humming with glee, even her lips burning beneath his. She kissed him back and pressed her wet body against his. She could still feel the cool raindrops hitting her face and closed eyelids, but her mind didn't register that. In fact, her mind didn't register anything but the feel of every contour on Draco's body.

Hermione felt her feet walking backwards, felt one of Draco's hands kneading the small of her back while the other tangled in her wet hair. Her back slammed into the trunk of the tree just as Draco slipped his tongue in her mouth. As the heat in their kiss intensified, she couldn't stop the moans that vibrated through her throat. Her nails clawed at his back as he moved from her lips to her neck, nibbling on the tender spots. So much of her body was reacting, radiating heat, that she didn't feel the least bit cold. In fact—if anything—she was starting to get a little overheated.

As Draco started to glide his tongue over her collarbone, he pulled back suddenly, looking deep into her heated eyes. He didn't say anything for a second, just stared with swollen lips and a dripping face. It was almost as if he just awoke from a dream. Hermione's mind slowly came back to her, but not enough to scream at her for her stupidity. All she could do was run her hands up and down his arms, her face slipping into a smirk. Draco, still staring at her with wonder, never moved his hands from their current position.

"Granger?" He asked his voice husky.

"Hmm?" She replied while her lips reached up to kiss his jaw. She was enjoying kissing him too much to stop.

"What are we doing?" His voice vibrated his neck, causing Hermione to playfully nip it.

She gave a sensual laugh, "Snogging, Malfoy. I'm assuming you've done it before since you do it so well."

That was when Hermione did something she probably shouldn't have. Instinctively, she slipped her tongue out, playing it along his ear. A groan slipped through Draco's chest right before he lost his mind. Before Hermione could think, he leaned forward and captured her lips again, lifting her hips so she could wrap her legs around his waist. This kiss was much like the first; filled with fire. A fire so hot Hermione felt like she was burning up from the inside. So, this was what the beginnings of love felt like? She couldn't help but feel a little drunk with giddiness. She wasn't overly happy her first love was with a Slytherin, though.

They continued to kiss, Draco slipping his hands up and under the back of her shirt. It was when he began to run his fingertips down her bare spine that Hermione was starting to tingle. Her body felt as if she were running a marathon—though, in a pleasant way. Locking her legs around him tighter, her arms wrapped around his neck and held on for dear life. None of the other guys she kissed had been like this. Not Ron, not Krum, and not Cormac; they had all felt a little sloppy. This kiss with Draco Malfoy was not sloppy at all.

It was heaven.

At hearing her moans, Draco felt his mind coming back to him slowly. Everything she had said to him before suddenly made perfect sense. He was in love with her. As much as he hated that, he couldn't bring himself to be ashamed of it. For Merlin's sake, he never believed love really existed. Now that it did, he wasn't very sure he could let it go. One thing was for sure, though. He didn't want to lessen it down to a quick shag in the rain.

Taking all of the willpower he had left, he stepped back and let her fall back down to her feet with her arms still around his neck. Breaking the kiss was even more difficult. Her lips were like a bloody drug! "Granger—no, Hermione we have to stop!"

Hermione heard his words, but didn't listen. While he was speaking, she kept laying little kisses against his neck. She was addicted to the way she was feeling. The light-heartedness was something she didn't want to let go of. It had been too long since she had felt last. Hermione feared that if they stopped it now, it wouldn't come back. She needed it; wanted it.

"Hermione, no!" Draco broke free of her, his body shaking with need. Holding her at arm's length, he tried to speak to her without looking into her eyes. They were consumed with such lust that he didn't think he could restrain himself if he did.

Hermione pouted lightly, "Why did we stop?"

He raised an eyebrow. She couldn't have been that obtuse, could she? "Bloody hell, Granger, didn't you notice where that was going?"

She nodded. "Of course."

Now Draco was really confused. "Then why were you letting it go on?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She eyes kept flickering down to his still swollen lips.

"Granger, we about shagged against a tree in full view of prying eyes. Does that really not bother you?" His voice was full surprise.

Sighing, she crossed her arms. The feeling had slipped away, leaving the cold stab of rejection. "It didn't, no. Now that you're making me feel like an utter fool, it does."

Draco scoffed. "Right. I know you, Granger. I know that you are a virgin; the mere fact that you were about to let yourself lose it in a place like this is preposterous."

The rejection grew, consuming her with a blind anger. "Well, I'm sorry you see me that way, Malfoy!"

Draco took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean it that way, Granger. Bloody hell, calm down!"

She couldn't calm down. All of the blood seemed to flow to her head at once, causing her to see red. "Why are you suddenly so eager to reject me, Malfoy?!"

His eyes widened in surprise. He never rejected her; in fact, he was just trying to do the gentlemanly thing for once in his life. "I'm not rejecting you!"

She didn't hear him. She was too busy listening to the pounding in her ears. "Oh, I get it! It's because I have cancer, isn't it?"

"What?" He took a step forward. "No, Herm—"

Hermione slapped his hands off of her arm. She was just warming up. "I'm not good enough because I have something _**wrong**_with me. I'm not perfect, so you don't want me! That's it, isn't it!?!"

He was shaking his head with wide eyes. He had no idea where this was coming from. "No, Granger, you're overreacting—"

Hermione, out of blind hatred, slapped him across the face so hard that a red handprint almost immediately lit his pale skin. The vibrations were so fierce that she could feel it deep in her bones. Draco's face flew to the side, the sting bringing tears to his eyes. He couldn't move, his heart still racing from their kisses.

"Overreacting, huh? Am I not acting satisfactory enough for you? Well, excuse me, Malfoy! I'm not some little whore you can have your way with and then dump when you feel like! And I'm _**deeply **_sorry that I'm dying, therefore not good enough for you to love!" Her voice was shrill, tears clouding her vision.

Draco watched her walk away with a ringing in his ear and a burning cheek. Funnily enough, he wasn't angry at what she had done. If anything, he was proud. Bloody hell! He was actually proud that Hermione Granger hit him—again! It wasn't the fact that she hit him, though; it was the passion in her eyes. He hadn't seen that passion in her since before the war. Noticing that the rain had stopped and the storm had passed, Draco shook his face and headed back to the dungeons with his hand pressed to his cheek.

Merlin, he needed a cold shower.

* * *

'_How dare that pathetic ferret do that to me!? I might be dying, but I still have a bloody heart! It can still be broken!'_ Hermione started to run back to her common room, her knees shaking weakly as her wet shoes squeaked on the stone. _'And to think, I actually thought I was in love with him!'_

Making it to her bed, nearly out of breath, she fell onto her mattress without drying herself. The quiet sounds of sleeping girls were still filling the room, along with Ginny's soft snores. The snores weren't anything like Ron's—thank Merlin—and even had a comforting edge to it. Five minutes later, Hermione found it difficult to breathe on her stomach and flipped over. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon; lighting up the dorm room. After everything that had happened, Hermione just couldn't feel the same joy she normally did every morning. In fact, she just felt cold and unwanted.

With blurry vision and a nauseated feeling, Hermione started to fall asleep. Just before she lost consciousness, however, she saw the heart shaped light on the ceiling staring down at her.

* * *

…_**Two days later…**_

* * *

"Don't forget, these trips to Hogsmeade are a privilege. While most, if not all, of you are of age, you still represent the school. If anything you do makes you look like a bunch of baboons, the school will look more like a zoo then well respected Wizarding School. This is not acceptable, therefore I expect you all to be on your best behavior!"

Hermione stood with her friends, listening to McGonagall's usual Hogsmeade speech. Normally witches and wizards of age could come and go as they please. While they still could, it was required that they submit a written request to their head of house. A fact that Hermione and the majority of the rest of her classmates found completely ridiculous.

"Merlin," Ginny turned to Hermione, Harry, and Ron, "You'd think after all these years that she would give a different speech."

Harry laughed, linking his arm around her neck. "I agree, Gin. I believe I've heard this speech four times now."

Ron chuckled, continuously looking at Hermione from the corner of his eye. He noticed how bad she looked today. Whatever was wrong with her was progressing dangerously fast and he really didn't want her going with them to Hogsmeade. "Hey, Mione?"

Snapping herself out of her train of thought, she looked up at him. "Yes, Ronald?"

He shuffled his feet, desperately not wanting to fight with her. "Uh, don't you think you ought to sit this trip out?"

Hermione looked confused, "What do you mean?"

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. He, too, noticed how ill and weak she looked today but was shocked to hear that Ron did as well. Perhaps the bloke wasn't as daft as they thought. Though, it didn't take a person of heightened knowledge to see how ill she was. "He's right, Mione. You look like you aren't feeling well."

She frowned. "Well, I feel fine, thank you."

Ginny laid her hand on her best friends arm. "Perhaps they're right, sweetheart. You should stay here and get some sleep—"

"I said I'm fine, Ginny!" Hermione snapped, immediately feeling guilty at the wounded expression on the redhead's face. "Look, I know you guys are just concerned, but trust me. I feel fine. Never better."

They could all tell she was lying and she could see that. But, they let it go anyway. It was obvious that fighting took a lot of energy out of her and they didn't want to make it any worse than it was. Hermione sighed as they started to walk towards the village. Everything they were saying was true. She had awoken that morning feeling worse than she ever had before and that scared her beyond belief. The doctors and healers all said that it was when she woke up and could barely move to use the restroom that she had cause to worry. Well, when she first opened her eyes she could barely move to roll over, let alone use the lou.

Hermione was already fully progressed into her cancer and she knew that. But, she couldn't tell anyone that. The moment she did she would be shipped off to St. Mungo's the first chance they got. She couldn't let that happen; not when she felt as if her purpose here had not yet been fulfilled. So, she pulled her shaking self out of bed and put on clothes for the trip. Hermione just didn't understand. She felt perfectly fine two days ago. Yesterday she might have been feeling a little sluggish, but it wasn't all that terrible. Today, on the other hand, was killing her.

No pun intended.

So, here she was. She was forcing herself to go to Hogsmeade with her friends. If anything, she wanted to see the quaint little village one more time; as well as see her friends truly enjoy themselves again. Although, under all of that, she really wanted to see Draco. After the way she yelled at him two days ago, he'd constantly been on her mind. During classes he wouldn't look at her; just wrote in this bloody book he always carried with him. She didn't know what he was doing and didn't like it. She wanted his attention long enough to apologize, damn it!

By the time they reached the village, Hermione was nauseated and seeing spots; her side aching again. "Hey," she called to her friends, "Why don't you guys go on to Zonko's? I'm going to visit the bookstore, alright?"

Ginny turned, letting go of Harry's hand. "Want me to keep you company?"

Hermione shook her head. She didn't want Ginny to see her like this. "No, I'll be ok. I'll just sit and read a little bit and meet you back at the Three Broomsticks."

Ron nodded his head and grabbed Harry's arm to pull him away. If Hermione said she was going to be okay, she was going to be okay. Harry, being dragged by Ron, grabbed onto Ginny's hand and waved. All the while, he couldn't erase the feeling that something wasn't right. He really didn't want to leave his ailing friend all alone. Ginny just followed, looking over her shoulder every three seconds to make sure Hermione was alright.

Once they were out of sight, Hermione clutched her side and forced herself up the three steps leading to the door of the bookstore. Her hand shook as she turned the knob, shuffling over to the nearest book case once she was in. Sweat was glistening on her forehead by the time she started to look through the titles; not really even seeing them through her dizzy and blurred vision. She just needed to read, she did. The pain would fade once she found a good one. The pain was spreading, taking up her entire side now and reaching over her abdomen. Pulling a random book from the shelf, she open it to the middle in a dire attempt to read, only to have it dropped to the floor as another wave of pain shot through her body. Gasping, she hunched over and tried to breathe.

A voice—one she recognized as the owner of the shop—sounded from her left, "Hermione, dear, are you feeling alright? Do you need help?"

"No, Ma'am." Hermione whispered, shaking her head to try and see straight as her legs shook, "I just need some air. Excuse me."

Hermione slammed the door, nearly falling down the stairs as she climbed down. Looking around, she looked at the few faces around her and the buildings behind them. They were blurred and rotating at an odd angle. The sounds and voices around her weren't making any sense as they skimmed through her mind. The pain hit again, causing her to wobble and lean against the cool wood of the book shop. Her body was wet with fresh sweat. The cool liquid dewing on her forehead was dripping into her eyes, her hair sticking to her face and neck. As another shock ran through her, she hunched over all the way while her stomach lurches violently. Hermione knew she was going to sick before she actually was.

As another sharp pain began, her body lost the battle as her stomach contracted, pushing what little breakfast she'd had back up and then some. Tears burned through her eyes and her nervous system gave out, leaving her weak and empty. Falling to her knees, Hermione kept gagging and dry-hacking until well after her stomach was empty. As her body took every assault one after the other, her mind started to black out, running from the foreign invaders. Slowly beginning to slip from consciousness, she heard a voice above her.

A voice, she found, that was circled in a white light with the most beautiful face in the world.


	14. In Love with Her

**((I hope you all like. Only a few more chapters left. And I know you all want a happy ending and I hope it ends that way. I don't know how it's going to end to be honest. I let the story lead me. The moment I sit down to write, it's all out of my hands. Please review!!))**

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**Chapter 13::  
**_In Love with Her_

* * *

Draco saw Hermione collapse before anyone else did. He saw her run out of the book shop and get sick in the street. He even saw the look of sheer terror fill her eyes as she lost consciousness.

It was the most painful experience of his life. All of the avoidance and ignorance he had been displaying over the past few months flew from his mind as he watched her fall. His legs seemed to carry themselves over to her; his arms picking her up of their own accord. No part of his body seemed to want to cooperate with his mind. He could have sworn he was telling himself over and over again to just walk away; that it was none of his business. But, he found that he couldn't walk away. He couldn't do anything, in fact, except get her to Madam Pomphrey as soon as possible. So, as he picked her up, he illegally apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

His legs ran as fast as they could the moment they hit the ground. Her weight had no bearing on him whatsoever. Bloody hell, the girl felt like she didn't weigh anything at all. Her illness must have progressed even further since he saw her last. Luckily for him, the doors of the school opened up for him; giving him the ability to keep running with her. He didn't think about why the doors opened for him; didn't care. The halls flew by in a blur as he raced through them, anxious to get to his destination. Sweat was dripping down his face and back as his muscles grew tired. Draco Malfoy wasn't used to running.

Slamming through the doors of the hospital wing, Draco screamed out, "Madam Pomphrey!!"

* * *

"Harry, something's wrong!" Ginny said while coming out of the book shop they left Hermione in moments ago. "The owner of the shop said Hermione looked like she was in a great deal of pain."

Cursing to himself, Harry thought frantically. The moment they had left Hermione alone, he had this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him to go back. So, halfway to Zonko's he asked the others to turn around. He had forgotten to ask Hermione something, he said. Ginny understood, for she had felt that same feeling of dread. Ron agreed since he didn't like the way they had left her. She didn't look like she should have been left alone.

Now, after Ginny went in to find her, it would appear they were right. Hermione was in pain and they weren't there to help her. "Where could she have gone?" He asked more himself than anyone else.

"Someone must have taken her back to Hogwarts. If she was as ill as they say she was then she is probably in the hospital wing." Ginny said in a frightened voice.

"Right, then let's go back." Harry grabbed her hand as they rushed through the village back to the school.

Ron, having listened to their incoherent babble, said, "Alright, that's it. I can't take this anymore."

Harry looked at Ron perplexed. "Beg pardon?"

Still speed walking, Ron replied. "I'm not a daft baboon. I've known that there has been something wrong with Hermione for months. So what are you two not telling me?"

Ginny and Harry exchanged glances. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Then why haven't you asked her about it?"

Sighing, Ron ran his hand through his thick red hair. "I was waiting for her to tell me. I figured if it was important enough she would tell me in her own time."

Ginny felt a sudden surge of respect for her brother as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Merlin, Ron. I didn't know you had it in you."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Right, well we can discuss your lack of faith in me later. Right now, I would like to know what is going on with my best friend."

Harry nodded and patted him on the back as they started to run. "We'll tell you when we get to the hospital wing."

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy!?" Seeing the girl in his arms, Madam Pomphrey signaled for him to lay Hermione down on the nearest bed. "What happened!?"

He laid Hermione down and started to tell the mediwitch the story. Listening, Madam Pomphrey circled the bed, examining Hermione's pupils and pulse. "You did the right thing in bringing her here. It sounds like she's crashed."

"Crashed?" Draco didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Her body has reached the final phase of Leukemia a lot faster than we anticipated." She waved her wand and Hermione's clothes transformed into a hospital gown.

"But," Draco never let go of Hermione's small hand. "What does that mean?"

Poppy kept running around, grabbing potions and pouring them down Hermione's throat. After each potion she would stand and stare at the young woman before getting a look of frustration and bustling off to get a new potion. Apparently, the potions weren't having the effect they were supposed to.

"Madam Pomphrey, what does that mean?" His voice was nearly hysterical.

She shook her head and began pushing him away from the bed. "I can't discuss this with you right now as I don't have the time to explain. If you insist on staying, wait over by the door. I need to work and I cannot do that with you hanging over me."

He walked backwards and tried to argue with the older witch, but in the end she bustled away and closed the curtains around Hermione's bed. Draco could hear her mutter a silencing curse right before the room fell silent. All he did for the first few moments was stand there staring at the curtain. If he watched close enough, he could see the Mediwitch's silhouette. He didn't like not knowing what she meant. His heart was aching right now and he desperately needed to know. So, to distract himself the best he could, he started pacing. His mind was working in overtime, causing him to flinch every time he heard the castle groan.

Twenty minutes passed by and he continued to pace. Madam Pomphrey was still behind the curtain with Hermione. The entire time, he just wanted to hold Hermione's hand. He needed some assurance that she was alive. From the moment he saw her, she looked like she was just a corpse. If he hadn't been able to feel her heartbeat against his chest as he ran here with her, he would've thought she was dead.

Suddenly, the doors behind him busted open, Harry, Ron, and Ginny running in. Unsure of what to do, Draco just stared at them as they looked around. Harry, being the first one to notice his presence, turned his eyes on him. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco tried to speak, but was interrupted by Madam Pomphrey walking out from behind the curtain. "He was the one that brought our dear Miss Granger to me after she collapsed in Hogsmeade." She turned an accusing look on the three. "What I would like to know was why she was alone to begin with? Surely you three noticed how ill she was! In fact, you should've brought her to me the moment she started to look this bad!"

Ginny was shaking. "She insisted we meet her later. She said she wanted to look at some books!"

Poppy nodded. "Yes, but that still didn't give you grounds to leave her alone. Not when she's so bad off."

Harry took Ginny's hand, "How bad is it, Madam Pomphrey?"

At this, the mediwitch's eyes turned from angry to soft and then finally to pain. "It's very bad, Mr. Potter." She looked at Ron with a confused expression. "Does he know?"

"Know what? What the bloody hell is going on?" Ron was looking near frantic.

Harry and Poppy exchanged a glance, neither of them wanting to be the one to break his heart. Even the poor fool's sister looked away. Draco couldn't believe what he was seeing. Here they were being told that Hermione Granger is in really bad shape and they couldn't even sum up the courage to explain to their dear friend why?

Draco shook his head. "I don't bleeding care whether or not Weaselbee knows. I want to know how bad it is!"

Harry threw Draco an angered look. "You're not helping."

"Yes, well, I don't give a hippogriff's arse if I'm helping or not! If you can't even tell Weasley here what's going on, then how do you expect to be near Hermione right now!?" His voice was loud and angry. He didn't like how they were wasting time.

"What the bloody hell do you care, anyway?" Harry shouted, now in Draco's face.

When Draco didn't say anything, Ginny did. "I know why."

Surprised, Harry and Draco backed down, both looking at the little redhead. Harry was confused while Draco was downright shocked.

"He's in love with her." Ginny said in her a-matter-of-fact voice.

Draco's gaze fell to the ground. He hadn't been that obvious had he? Merlin, he'd just figured it out himself a few days ago. He didn't understand how the little Weasley knew.

"What are you on about?" Ron asked, sounding like he was strangled.

"Draco Malfoy is in love with Hermione." Ginny eyes were shining as she smiled sadly.

Harry snickered. "Ginny, I think you're off your rocker."

"No." Ginny walked forward and tilted her head to look into Draco's eye. "I'm not. He's in love with her."

"And, what makes you say that?" Ron glared.

Ginny just shrugged. "Well, the way he's protective of her is a definite fresh sign."

Draco glared as he looked into her brown eyes. "Fine, I admit it. You've figured me out. Now, how about you tell your brother what's going on? We're wasting precious time here."

Harry and Ron looked at him shocked. They didn't know what to say, except to just stare at him. While they tried to process what was going on, Ginny and Draco had some unspoken conversation. She knew she had to tell Ron and Draco was trying to convince her to do so. Finally, she nodded and turned to Ron.

Ron, now crossing his arms, asked, "What's going on, Ginny?"

Sighing, she looked to the ground. "Hermione is dying, Ron."

That was not what he expected to hear. Flinching Ron started to shake his head. "That's not funny, Gin."

"It wasn't meant to be." Ginny's voice was low, tears falling down her face.

Harry nodded, "It's true, Ron. Hermione was diagnosed with Leukemia two years ago."

For the longest time, Ron didn't say anything. He just looked at the four people in front of him with a lost expression. Part of him wanted to deny it. The other part could see into the eyes of his friends and know that it was true. So many emotions started to build within him at the same time. Anger, sadness, pain, surprise… he didn't know which made him feel worst. Finally, he decided on pain.

After Draco waited for Weaselbee to say something, he eventually lost his patience and turned to the waiting Mediwitch. "How bad is it? Weasley can work this out in his own time. Right now, Hermione is who is important."

Poppy looked at him torn. Finally, she decided to tell them. "Like I said, it's very bad. The last time I saw her, her spleen was slightly enlarged—which is to be expected with this form of cancer. Now, however, it's grown even bigger."

Harry's eyes were scared. "What does that mean?"

"Her white blood cells are diminishing, Mr. Potter. Her body has started to shut down. All of its self-defense is gone."

They all became silent.

"What can we do?" Ron asked his voice low.

Madam Pomphrey sighed. "At this rate, there is nothing I can do. I'm going to have to transfer her to St. Mungo's. They'll, at least, be able to keep her comfortable."

"Comfortable?" Draco asked, not liking the way it sounded.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Comfortable." Madam Pomphrey really looked her age now. "I'm afraid Miss Granger doesn't have much time left."

Draco was immediately shaking his head. "That's not possible! She said herself that she had two years left!"

Poppy looked at the young man sadly. "With this type of cancer, there is no way to know when it can take a turn for the worst. Miss Granger's body has been fighting violently for two years now. It just can't seem to fight anymore."

Harry was not listening. "What about your potion? The one we've been working on?"

More sadness filled her eyes. "The potion will work when it's done, Mr. Potter. But, it won't be done for months yet. I'm afraid Miss Granger doesn't have that much time left."

"But, you said!" Ginny screamed, crying. "You said you could save her!"

"I _said _I would try, Miss Weasley. And I'm so sorry, but there just isn't enough time." Poppy's voice caught with emotion.

Draco didn't like where this was going. He didn't like the sound of it at all. The mediwitch here was saying that Hermione Granger was going to die. She said that Hermione Granger couldn't fight anymore. That statement alone didn't sound right. Granger never stopped fighting, no matter what! Looking around the room, he could see the resolve and acceptance in their eyes. He could feel them give in. Well, he wouldn't give in. If he was the only one that was going to fight for Hermione's Granger's survival, then so be it.

"No."

Harry, Ginny, and Ron looked at him with confusion. Ginny spoke first. "Draco, you heard her there is nothing we can do."

He shook his head repeatedly. "How can you say that? This is your bloody best friend! You're just willing to except that she's going to die?! I can't do that!"

Harry frowned and let the tears build up in his eyes. If there was anyone that was taking this hard it was his. This wonderful witch had saved him many times over. It wasn't easy for him to except that he couldn't save her the same way. "Does it honestly look like this is easy for any of us, Malfoy? Alright, great; you're in love with her. I'm happy for you; glad to know you have a heart. But, news flash. We have been in her life a hell of a lot longer than you have. So, I like to think this is a little more difficult for us to believe than you."

Draco wanted to beat Potter to a pulp. "Then why the hell aren't you trying to do something about it!?"

"We have been, you sodding git! We have been in this hospital wing every bleeding night for the last few months! We've put everything into this potion cure for Hermione! So, don't you stand there and try to tell me what I am or aren't doing!" Harry was angry and it showed as the fire danced in his eyes.

"While I am enjoying this little pissing contest," Poppy started to walk away. "I must send an owl to St. Mungo's about transporting Miss Granger."

Ron took a step forward. "How long does she have now, Madam Pomphrey?"

Poppy turned around, a heartbreaking frown on her face. "I'm not supposed to say. Only a professional at St. Mungo's can tell you that."

The four watched her walk away, all of them with different expressions on their face. Ron's was one of betrayal and agony. He felt betrayed that Hermione couldn't tell him this with the others; agony because he was about to lose the one girl he's ever been in love with. Harry's face was one of torture. He so wanted to save Hermione, but knew that there was truly no way. Ginny's held pure terror and sadness. There was nothing worse than losing a sibling. No matter what anyone said and no matter what anyone thought; Hermione was her sister, just not by blood.

Draco's, on the other hand, was nothing like the others. His face held suspicion. It held thought. And it also held confirmation. He would save Hermione Granger. He would go to his mother and ask her for assistance. She might not like muggleborns, but that didn't matter. She loved her son and would do just about anything for him. He just had to ask.

'_Oh, yes, Granger. I will save you. Then you'll spend the rest of your life making it up to me.'_


	15. His Sign

**((Here's another chapter!!! Two in one night wootwoot!! REVIEW!!))**

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**Chapter 14::  
**_His Sign_

* * *

Calling on Hermione's parents was the hardest thing Harry had ever had to do. The sheer pain that crossed their faces the moment Harry crossed into their living room from the floo network was enough to nearly knock him out. He didn't even have to tell them what was going on. They just knew that something wasn't right. After all, their floo was strictly for emergency situations only. Following them through the busy halls of St. Mungo's, Harry tried to keep pace with them. They were heading to the wing that specialized in cancer research. Hermione was in the best possible hands there. The moment her parents got there, he had faith she would be fine. If she would only wake up, that is.

Upon reaching Hermione's assigned room, Harry was relieved to see that not only Ginny and Ron were there, but the whole Weasley family as well. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting on a little loveseat, their arms around each other as Molly cried quietly. George sat with Bill, Charlie, and Fleur, discussing something Harry couldn't hear. Even Percy was there, standing awkwardly off to the side with his muggle blackberry in one hand. Apparently, several Ministry individuals carried them, finding it more convenient then owls and flying memos. However, it would appear they were insanely addictive. Percy hadn't taken his nose out of his since he's gotten there.

The moment Molly and Arthur saw them walk in they rushed over and immediately tried to console the worried parents. They thought of Hermione as a child as well. They couldn't believe something like this was even possible for the brilliant curly haired woman. Molly immediately embraced the sobbing Mrs. Granger, whispering words of reassurance as best as she could.

As Harry joined his girlfriend, the Healer in charge of Hermione walked in, looking grim. Mr. and Mrs. Granger eagerly ran to them. "Well, Doctor? How's our Hermione?" Mrs. Granger asked, sounding scared.

The healer looked at the couple and tried her best to smile. "I'm afraid, Mr. and Mrs. Granger that your daughter isn't doing well."

"Wait," Mr. Granger grasped his wife's shoulders. "What are you trying to tell us?"

She shook her head sadly, black curls bouncing on her shoulders. This was always the worst part of her job. "I'm saying, Sir, that there is nothing more we can do for your daughter. We have tried everything we could; every kind of potion imaginable as well as everything muggle. She's not responding to any of it."

"But, what does that mean?" Harry took a step forward, Ginny looking on in hope.

"It means that Hermione is dying." Her voice was low, full of emotion.

Mrs. Granger's wails filled the room, her husband trying to hold onto his wife while crying himself. Mrs. Weasley could also be heard crying, every Weasley in the room trying to make her stop. Harry was frozen, unable to speak. Ginny was trying to keep herself composed. So much pain was flashing through her chest as she stood there that she felt like she was having a heart attack. Ron was huddled into a ball in the corner of the room rocking himself as George held onto him. George knew all too well the pain of losing someone close. He didn't want his little brother to go through the same thing.

"How long does she have?" Ginny managed to strangle out of her constricted throat.

The healer looked around at the room full of sobbing people. The girl she was carrying for was obviously loved deeply. Of course, she knew who Hermione Granger was. Everyone in the wizarding world did. She was Harry Potter's best friend and by far the most caring witch to have existed since Rowena Ravenclaw; not to mention the brightest. This is why she had transferred to St. Mungo's. The moment she was told Hermione Granger was being seen by healers for cancer, she had to treat her.

Now, here she was, telling her lovely patient's family and friends she had failed. "A month. At the most."

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy stared at her son with a look of pure surprise. After all, it's not every day that a Malfoy admitted to being in love with a muggleborn. Bloody hell, she didn't even think that has ever happened! Now, here she was looking at her forlorn and heartbroken son while he was begging her for help. For the longest time, she didn't know what to say. Granted, she didn't share her husband's pure hatred for muggleborns, but that didn't meant she had fluffy puppy feelings for them.

"Mother, please say something." Draco fidgeted under her intense gaze. Only his mother had that look. The one look that made him feel uncomfortable.

Still giving him the look she said, "Let me get this straight. You want me to help you save Hermione Granger's life?"

He nodded.

"And how, son, do you propose we do that?" She raised an eyebrow.

At this, Draco didn't really know what to say. This was as far as his plan went. He just figured he would ask his mother for help and she would take it from there. After all, that's how it has always been. "Well, Mother, I was hoping that you would have an idea for that."

"Draco, love, the most I could do is find the best healer for her. I'm assuming she has a healer already?"

He nodded again.

"Do you know his name?"

Draco wrinkled his head in thought. "It's not a man. It's a woman, but I didn't catch her name before I left Hermione to come talk to you."

Narcissa sat forward. "Did she have black curly hair? Silver eyes?"

Draco nodded. That was something he was sure of. The witch had looked extremely young to him; maybe 21 or so.

His mother nodded and sighed. "Then I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for your little girlfriend, Draco."

Shock shook Draco to his core. "What do you mean?"

"If the mediwitch is the one I'm thinking of, then Hermione Granger _does_ have the best there is. The healer that matches that description is Dr. Meredith Sinclair. She is the best there is in any country. She's generally a travelling healer, in fact; one that only works with royalty or those with a great deal of money. I'm surprised that she even agreed to be Miss Granger's healer. After all, the girl isn't really that important." Her voice was low, full of uncaring.

Draco, for the first time in his left, started to feel the sharp stab of rage towards his mother. "I would appreciate it, _Mother, _if you didn't talk that way about Hermione."

Narcissa looked at Draco with surprise. "I don't understand your feelings for this... muggleborn, Draco, but I won't allow you to talk to me in that tone."

"I will talk to you however I please, mother. I mean, here I am telling you that for the first time in my life I love someone other than myself. Most mothers would be excited. You, however, just say she isn't important. You sound as if you would prefer it if she just died!" His voice was rising, border lining on shouting.

She frowned. "I never said that. I'm just thinking about what your father would say if he was here—"

"Well, he isn't here, Mother! He is never going to be here again! For all I care, he can rot in his tiny cell in Azkaban! He does not control me anymore, and neither do you! I know that you don't care for muggleborns, and honestly I didn't either! But, she's different, Mother. She sees things no one in this world does. Her outlook is so beautiful, so heartfelt that I couldn't stay away from her. She's the only good thing that has ever happened to me. She's my sign, Mum! The one sign I needed to show me that I'm not as hopeless as everyone thinks. If you can't accept my feelings for her, then I can't stay here any longer." He turned on his heel and walked out of his mother's sitting room.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! You come back here this instant!? I will not allow you to speak to me in such a manner and walk away!" Her voice rose, echoing through the room.

Draco didn't hear her. He was already gone.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes to a bright white room. The ceiling was bare, except for a lone tile that had a picture of a sunrise painted on it. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she tried to clear her groggy brain. Every inch of her felt horrid. Her stomach was aching, her throat feeling raw, and her lips dry. Attempting to reach up to rub her eyes, she felt her hand pull something. Turning her palm down, Hermione flinched when she saw the IV sticking out of her hand. Now she knew where she was.

She was in the hospital.

Lifting her head slightly, she saw her parents fast asleep in the couch across the room. That wasn't a good sign. If her parents were called in, then that typically meant the worst. Sighing, she tried to sit up, only to have her side scream in protest. This was going to get annoying fast.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A whisper echoed from the other side of her bed.

Turning her head, she saw Ron sitting there, leaning against the back of his uncomfortable chair. Her eyes widened as she remembered he was the only one who didn't know of her cancer. If he was sitting there now, that meant Harry and Ginny must have told him. She didn't know what to say. "Ron…"

He held up his hand, scooting forward to grab hers. Silence filled the room and lasted for several minutes. The two just stayed where they were, clutching onto each other's hand. Finally, Ron decided to speak. "Harry and Ginny told me; about you." He looked into her eyes sadly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione sighed, looking away from those bright blue eyes. She'd asked herself that same question many times; especially since she told Harry and Ginny. Deep down, she knew the answer. It was that answer that she decided he should know. It was just going to be hard to say.

"I didn't tell you," she swallowed hard. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to see that look."

"What look?" He asked, his eyes questioning.

"The look you get when your heart gets broken." She squeezed his hand as hard as her weak muscles would allow. "I've seen that look in your eyes before. It's that look that about kills me… no pun intended."

Ron laughed nervously. He knew the look she was talking about. When she broke his heart, he let it show. Whenever he would look at her, he knew he had that look in his eyes. It wasn't until after Christmas that he stopped. It wasn't her fault that she didn't love him the way he loved her. It just took him a long time to finally realize it. Now, as she lay in the hospital bed dying, he tried to keep the look away; tried to keep it from shining in his eyes. It wasn't easy. It was probably one of the most difficult things he had to do, in fact. The girl he was in love with was dying in front of him; his heart was breaking.

"I'm sorry, Mione. I didn't know I hurt you that much." Ron looked away, unable to look her in the eye.

Her free hand lifted, touching his face to make him look at her again. "I know you didn't want to hurt me, Ron. Merlin knows that I never wanted to hurt you. I do love you, Ronald Weasley. I'm just sorry it's not the way you'd like."

He smiled and nodded his head. "The thing is? It doesn't really matter to me if you love me that way or not. I'll take you any way that I can get you, Hermione Granger."

A small smile lit her pale face. The equipment surrounding her bed was certainly muggle. The healer in charge of Hermione claimed that muggle medical supplies had the best hope of maintaining a witch or wizard when they were dying from cancer. Wizarding medicine was excellent at healing; just not the preserving part. An IV was in her left hand and oxygen tubes in her nose to give her a good amount of oxygen. The only thing run by magic was the heart monitor, a transparent screen flickering above her head.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Granger said, waking up from her not-so-peaceful slumber.

Ron smiled, "I'll leave you alone with your parents. Harry and my family went to the cafeteria to get some food. I'll go tell them you're awake."

Hermione sighed, "They all know?"

He nodded sadly. "Ginny flooed them when you were being transferred. My parents, brothers, and Fleur are here."

She nodded her head and signaled for him to get a move on. There was nothing in the world she'd rather see more than her entire family. The Weasleys were certainly a part of her family.

'_Too bad Draco isn't here…'_ She thought her heart clenching as she remembered their kiss.

Her parents rushed to her side. Her father touched her forehead. "You alright, love? Your heart stuttered a moment there."

Hermione felt the urge to giggled, but suppressed it. It didn't seem like now was a good time to giggle. "I'm fine. Just remembering something."

Her mother smiled sadly and touched her face. "How are you feeling, Mimi?"

Hermione sighed, unsure how to answer. To be honest, she felt awful. This was the worst she'd ever felt and she'd felt some pretty terrible things. Even being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange didn't touch this. "I'm fine; just tired."

Her father smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Well, I'd think so. You've been unconscious all day."

Mrs. Granger turned her head to wipe the tears out of her eyes. She had hoped that Hermione wouldn't see. She did, however. If there was one thing her parents should have remembered about her was that it was near impossible to get things by her without her seeing right through it. "Mum?"

Sniffling, her mother smiled at her trying to hide her previous slip. "Yes, Mimi?"

"You're hiding something from me. What is it?" Coughing, Hermione turned her head until her coughing fit was over.

Her father brought a cup of cold water to her lips, putting the straw in her mouth so she could drink. "Alright, dear?" He asked her once she was finished.

She nodded and turned back to her mother. "Mum, I need you to tell me."

Sighing, her mother grabbed her daughter's hand in both of hers as she sat on the edge of the bed, her father doing the same on the opposite side. "The doctor here that's been examining you told us the extent of your… condition."

Hermione frowned. "Mum, I think we're beyond the point of denial. It's time you just called it my cancer."

Nodding, her mother looked at the floor. "Right. I'm sorry, Mimi. Your… cancer… had progressed. It's so far along that there's not much they can do… for you…"

Her mother fell into loud sobs, her grip becoming painful. Scared, Hermione turned to her dad, hoping he could finish explaining. "Daddy?"

He started to cry too, but softer and silent. Hermione silently prayed he wouldn't sob like her mother. She needed some stability, a rock. She didn't think she could hold it in if they both broke down. Clearing his throat, he spoke silently, "The doctor said that your body has been fighting the… cancer… the best that it could. At first, your immune system was doing just fine, it still managed to function. Now, however, it's stopped functioning."

Hermione nodded her head. She pretty much figured that out on her own. After all, she did feel particularly terrible. "What else? There's more isn't there?"

Her mother had finally controlled her crying. "What you might not understand, honey, is that your body can't keep going without your immune system. It's slowly shutting down."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. If her body was shutting down… "How slow?"

Her mother started to sob again, so her father answered her. "A month, Mimi, at the most."

Hermione started to shake as those words repeated themselves in her mind. There was not going to be any two years like she originally thought. There was only going to be a month. Her body was shutting down on her. She wouldn't be around in a month. She was going to die…

For the first time in months, Hermione cried. Her entire body shook as the tears fell in thick drops down her face. Her heart was racing fast as she curled into the fetal position to hold herself as she sobbed. Her life had meant so much to her, her friends meant so much to her. In one month she wouldn't have her friends or family anymore. She was leaving for good. She was going to die…

Her mother slid onto the bed behind Hermione, wrapping her arms around her little girl. Curling around her, she held her close like she used to when she had nightmares as a child. It didn't matter how old Hermione was, she was her baby. She was going to lose her baby and didn't want to let her go. Hermione's father tapped his wife on the back, signaling the two to scoot forward. Luckily, they didn't have to for the bed magically lengthened, allowing him space to lie next to his wife. As he did so, he wrapped his arms around the two women in his life. The two women who meant the world to him.

Hermione felt her mother's arms circle her waist to hold her close. Bringing her hands down, she covered her mother's with her own and held on tight. Soon, her father's followed. As she laid there in the miserable hospital bed where she was likely to die, she sobbed her heart out. It didn't matter that she was an almost nineteen year old witch. And it didn't matter that she was a witch. She needed her mummy and daddy. She needed them more than the world.

* * *

Draco knew the moment he got to St. Mungo's that he wasn't wanted. The Weasley's were crowded in the waiting room, waiting for their chance to see Hermione. Chances were that he wasn't going to be allowed to, but that didn't matter. He needed to at least try. Letting out a large sigh, he walked into the waiting room where Harry and Ginny were sitting. When they saw him, they didn't look at him with rage or disgust. No, they were too emotional drained to do such a thing.

Instead, Harry just nodded in his direction and said, "We were wondering when you were going to get here, Draco."

Draco's eyes widened when he heard the man say his name. While that startled him, he didn't dwell on it very long. He had more important thing to attend to. "How is she?"

Ginny sighed and released her boyfriend's hand before standing. "Draco, follow me. Love, I'll be back in a moment."

Harry nodded and stood to join Ron. Ron was standing by the window, his eyes red from crying. Though, it was impossible to find a face in the room that wasn't red from crying. Following the little redhead out of the room, Draco felt that he didn't want to go back in there. He hadn't cried yet and he was sure that the moment he started, he wouldn't be able to stop.

Once out in the hall, Ginny turned on him with a determined expression. "Did you talk to your mother?"

He nodded his head, unable to meet her eyes.

"What did she say?"

"He said that there wasn't anything she could do. It turns out that Hermione's healer is the best there is. If she can't save her, no one can." His voice was voided out. He tried to keep his emotions at bay.

Ginny sighed and felt the tears welling up. "I suppose I knew that already. I was just hoping you'd prove me wrong."

He nodded, unable to say anything to that. He had hoped the same.

"Draco?" Ginny's voice was curious. "I know you love Hermione. But, why didn't you do anything about it?"

Draco sighed and leaned his back against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "I was afraid, I guess. Bloody hell, I was horrified. I've never loved anything in my life and then one night, I find Hermione. She was different from before; she was still smart and had her stubborn ways. But, she was different. She made me see the world in a different way and in turn I saw her in a different way."

"When did you find out you loved her?" Ginny asked leaning next to him.

"When we kissed." He decided honesty was the best. Lying felt pointless right then.

Ginny smiled. "You kissed?"

He nodded his head, a small smile crossing his face as he remembered their passionate kiss. That was the first time his heart felt so light. "Yes, in the rain."

Ginny sighed, "That's romantic."

He just shrugged. It's not like he planned it.

"Can I ask you a question with you being honest with me?" Ginny asked, looking at the ground.

Without words, Draco just nodded.

"Are you only in this because she won't be here in a year?" Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible.

Shock shot through him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she turned and looked him in the eyes. "Hermione is dying. She won't be here for long. Are you only in this because you know that no commitment is necessary? One more month and you're off the hook?"

"Of course not..." his head whipped around as he let the words 'one more month' float through his head. "One month?"

"Answer the question, Draco." She needed to know the answer.

He shook his head. "I couldn't care less that she's dying, Red. I don't know why it happened, but I fell in love with her. You know how people say that love grows over time? That wasn't the case for me. It was like a bolt of lightning just shocked my heart. One second, she was just muggleborn Granger, the girl I hated. Then, suddenly, she's Hermione, the girl I love. I can't explain why it happened, but it did. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for Hermione until the end and forever after."

Looking at him, Ginny could see he was telling the truth. His eyes were shining with fresh tears that he refused to let fall. Bless him; he was trying to be brave. "Okay."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"That's it." Ginny linked her arm through his and they headed back to the waiting room.

"Hey, Red?" He asked, scared to hear the answer to his question that he has yet to ask.

"Yes?"

"Hermione only has a month doesn't she?" His voice cracked, his heart aching.

She nodded her head, unable to meet his eyes. "A month at the most."

Draco had been dreading that answer. "One month."

She nodded her head again. "One month."

"Red?"

"Draco?"

"Does it always hurt like this?"

She smiled slightly as her heart went out to him, understanding exactly what he meant. "Yes, Malfoy. It hurts."


	16. Kiss Me

**((I hope you all like. Please review!))****Chapter 15  
**_Kiss Me_

* * *

Days went by slowly. Draco wasn't sure how long he'd been visiting the hospital. All he knew was that he would go to class and come back to St. Mungo's at the end of the day; sleeping on the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room all night. No one at school asked him where he would go every night. McGonagall knew, and that was all that mattered. In the time he'd been staying at the hospital, he'd seen many people coming and going. In all the years he'd known her, he didn't know Hermione was loved by quite so many. Now, though, that he loved her himself he could see why. Even in terrible shape she had a big heart.

As the days continued to pass, Draco stayed in the waiting room. He never went in to see Hermione. As to why that was, he was not sure. Mostly, he figured he was scared of seeing her again; afraid it would hurt some more. In reality, it was because he was afraid in general. He was finally in love and she was dying. That frightened him. After all, if loving someone meant they would leave you, then what was the point?

Ginny would come and go almost as often as he would. The only difference being that she actually went back to the school to sleep. Whenever she would see him, she would try to talk him into joining her in Hermione's room. He declined each time. Some excuse would pop up in his head, giving him an out. He would take it. Despite that, Ginny continued to try every day. She wouldn't push; didn't feel the need. She knew that he would do it in his own time. Merlin, she just hoped that it would be before Hermione actually...

It was just too painful to even think the word.

Finally, one day Ginny had enough.

"Draco, this is crazy! You need to go see her!" Her voice was as low as she could keep it in the quiet waiting room.

Draco just shot her a confused expression before crossing his arms over his chest. He still wasn't ready, damn it! What if he went in there and acted like a bumbling idiot!? No, he wasn't ready.

Ginny nearly stomped her foot in frustration. Normally she wouldn't bother him. She'd greet him, ask him to join her, and then go on her merry way. Today, however, was different. Hermione was different. Not only was she skinnier, but she didn't have any strength. Bloody hell, she could barely sit up while Ginny was in there. Her eyes were starting to sink in even deeper than they were before. Even speaking had seemed like a great challenge to her. Hermione was really sick now; no sugar-coating it. After Hermione fell asleep, Ginny excused herself from the room to give Draco an earful.

Ginny's best friend was disintegrating right before her very eyes and there was nothing she could do about it. She needed to take it out somewhere and Draco was the perfect pawn.

Staring at him with determined and stern eyes, Ginny crossed her arms much like him and stood there. The two started an apparent staring contest. Draco was used to glaring at people for long periods of time. He knew he could stick this out for as long as was necessary. He wasn't ready, and he refused to be rushed because the youngest Weasley thought it was inappropriate for him to wait any longer. Ginny, however, knew she would win. Maybe she wouldn't win the staring contest, but she would win with him going into the room.

"You want to know what I don't understand, Malfoy?" Her voice was low, dangerous.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply.

"I don't understand how you can just sit there every single day and watch people come and go from Hermione's room. I don't understand how you can just sit there and not go in yourself. You know she's dying; you know she only has a little time left. And yet, you sit there. You never move until you need to report to the school. You're a pathetic fool and you know what?" She took a step forward, leaning down to place her hands on the arms of his chair—making their faces an inch apart. "I don't understand how you have the balls to say you love Hermione when you can't even be with her when she needs you the most."

Draco's face fell as he heard her words. At first he couldn't speak, couldn't move. Finally, he managed to thaw himself out. Unexpected anger bubbled up inside him as he stared at the white tiling on the floor. Not only had Ginny Weasley invaded his life, but now she was in his business. This was _his_ busy! What right did she think she had? Right, so she's best friends with Hermione Granger. And, she may also know what she is talking about. But, all in all, that didn't mean anything. He was still his own person and could damn well make his own decisions!

Ginny, getting fed up, turned to walk away. "I'm going back to the school. Hermione's alone right now. Be a bloody man and go see her. She doesn't have much time left."

Watching her retreating back, his hands began to shake. He needed some bloody air! His feet slammed to the floor in long strides. If Ginny thought she could tell him what to do, she had another thing coming. He would go see Hermione in his own time. Not hers or anyone else's! So, he stomped through St. Mungo's, earning several glares from Healers and receptionists. He just glared in their direction and continued to walk, eager to floo out of the cramped place.

"Draco, just where do you think you're going?"

Draco halted in his footsteps just as he was about to step up to the floo. That familiar voice caught him off guard, eliminating his anger. Turning slowly, his mouth dropped as he looked at the woman in front of him. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Is that any way to talk to your mother?"

Shaking his head to remove all traces of surprise, he walked up to her confused. "Fine, I'm sorry, Mother. May I ask you why you are here?"

Her light laugh vibrated around him. It was a small tone, almost like tiny bells. "I came to see my son. Last I checked, he was in a bad place and I felt it in my heart. So, I have come to help."

"You already told me you couldn't help." His voice was tired, stretched. They really didn't need to continue this same old song and dance.

Sighing, Narcissa linked her arm through her sons and patiently began walking with him to the waiting room he had just abandoned. Draco went without complaint. For one, he was much too curious to just walk away. Secondly, his heart never really left the room. His emotions just made him throw a temper tantrum. There was no doubt that he would have returned within moments. Narcissa sat in one of the ghastly green chairs, motioning for Draco to sit next to her. When he did, she looked around.

"I must say, these hospital waiting rooms never did have taste. I'd bet the rooms are at least a little nicer." She sarcastically flicked at the distasteful seat next to her.

Draco just looked at the tiles of the floor. "I wouldn't know. I haven't been to any of the rooms here."

Narcissa nodded, looking at the floor as well. She was never good at comforting others; including her son. "Would that include our dear Miss Granger?"

He didn't nod; didn't reply. He just continued to stare at the tiled floor.

Again, she nodded. "I suspected so."

"Why are you here, Mother?" His voice was cut, short.

Somewhat shocked at his tone, she looked up at him surprised. However, it soon turned to sadness. "I'm here to help you, like I said."

"And, like I said," he turned his cold, grey eyes on her. "You said you couldn't help."

Narcissa sighed, fingering the hem on her black skirt. "I may not be able to cure her cancer, but I can help save_ you_."

Draco snorted. "And how are you going to do that? Besides, what makes you think I need saving?"

She shot him a disbelieving look. "Draco, darling, the woman you love is down the hall in her death bed and you haven't gone to see her once."

He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, not knowing what to say. "That does not concern you."

"Yes, love, it does."

"Why?"

"Because you are my son. I love you, Draco, and I will not sit by and watch you destroy yourself." Her voice was getting higher.

Draco stood and began to slowly pace. "And what the bloody hell makes you think I'm destroying myself?"

Slamming her purse onto Draco's abandoned chair, Narcissa stood and grabbed Draco's face in her hands. She wanted to shake some sense into his stubborn head! "You're destroying yourself by not seeing her, Draco!"

"I'm not ready to see her!" He shouted, trying to step away from her hands.

She held on tight. "Yes, you are. You just refuse to."

Draco shook his head, feeling his emotions that he's kept bottled up start to crack. "That's not tr—"

"Stop lying to yourself, Draco!" She smoothed back his hair. "Ever since I married you father I have not known love. The mere fact that you have it in your grasp gives me hope. But, it hurts me that you won't reach out and take the chance!"

"It's not that simple, Mother!" He started to shake his head.

"Yes, it is!" Tears brimmed in her eyes as she saw her son's face contort with the obvious pain he was holding back. "What are you so afraid of?" she whispered, his face still in her hands.

Draco felt the doors he locked his emotions in crumble. The first choked sob of many flew out of his throat. Hot, fresh tears spilled from his eyes. "She's dying, Mum." He stared into his mother's own tear filled eyes. "Hermione's dying, Mum, she's dying!"

As he collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor, Narcissa went down with him, holding him in her arms like she used to when he was a little boy. For the first time in many years, she finally got to hold her son; finally got him to open up. It just broke her heart that it was because of this. It was almost impossible to find the person meant for you. Draco finding it was the one thing she'd been wishing for all his life. Narcissa never wanted her son to end up like her heartless, cold husband. No, she wanted him to live a happy life without darkness. And now, he would know a big part of that darkness too early. After all, nothing in the world hurts worse than losing the person who completes you.

Nothing.

* * *

Hermione was writing when Draco walked in. With her bed acting as a chair, her head was bent over and her hand writing furiously. Part of Draco wondered what she was writing, but the majority of him was just struck by the sight of her. Ginny really hadn't been exaggerating about her failing health.

As she wrote, he examined her closely. Her skin was extremely pale and thin, sticking to her bones like plastic. She was so skinny her bones could be seen quite easily, from what he could see. Even her usually full of life hair was limb, flat against her head. Her sunken eyes stood out even more over her prominent cheekbones. Nothing about her screamed life anymore; even those brown eyes seemed to not hold any spark. His heart squeezed as a scary thought ran through his head. Her death was close… and he almost didn't come see her.

After his mother held him and told everything would be alright, he got the courage to finally see her. It wasn't her keeping him away at all. It was just him. He was scared that if he saw her everything would become real. He would really love her and she was really about to die. So, with short and frightened footsteps, he'd managed to walk into her room, standing by the door waiting for her to notice him.

It took her quite some time, but she finally did. When her eyes met his, she smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to make it here."

He forced himself to smile back. All he could seem to think about was how a simple smile could make her face stretch and almost look painful. "Sorry it took me so long."

Still smiling, she flinched slightly as she shifted in his direction; her left hand clutching her side lightly. "I knew you'd make it here when you were ready."

His heart started to race as he took another step towards her bed. It didn't pass his attention that she had to lay against the back of the bed in order to sit up. "You were waiting for me?"

"Yes." She sighed, her eyes filling with tears. "I was."

Draco could sense the double meaning in her words, but refused to dwell on it. He was there to see her. He was not there to cry any more. He would do that… later. Instead, he crossed the small room and sat in the recliner next to her bed. "Where are your parents? I thought they would never leave?"

She gave a small laugh, one that made her cough for a second. "I told them to get some fresh air. Mum and Dad have been sleeping here since I got admitted. It was time they took a break."

He nodded, unable to look at her face. Instead, he resorted to staring at the white and blue knitting of her wool blanket. Due to her frail and skinny form, he was betting it was to keep her warm. He felt the tears forming again as she placed her shaking hand under his chin. Tilting his face to look at her, she gave a small smile again, but didn't say anything. She was going to let him do that talking first.

Swallowing a sob, his voice cracked when he finally managed to speak. "Hermione, I…" He couldn't finish.

Understanding, she nodded. "I know."

They looked into each other's eyes for the longest time. Draco couldn't seem to form words as he felt his heart slowly breaking. And then finally, after several minutes of silence, he managed to force out the words. "I love you."

Her smile was growing smaller, but it still managed to reach her tired, pain-filled eyes. In all the years she's lived, Hermione never thought love was going to happen to her. Studies and a career were all she saw in her future. And now, as she laid in her small bed dying, she was glad she lived long enough to love and be loved by someone. It made her weak heart flutter and her eyes tear. And to think, it was with the most unlikely person in the world.

"And I love you." Her voice was small, warm.

Letting the tears fall, Draco leaned forward and kissed her cold lips. It wasn't a kiss full of fire. No, it was a kiss that was full of love; and that made it the best kiss he ever had—and quite possibly the best he'd ever have for as long as he lived. Leaning back, he rested his forehead against hers with his eyes closed. He needed to feel next to him. Hermione Granger was suddenly and wonderfully so real next to him that he couldn't break away. So much pain was filling him that he didn't know what to do or to say.

Hermione's eyes were also closed as she breathed in his familiar scent. If there was one thing she wished she could take with her, it was his scent. Her heart ached, but she felt like she had done what she was meant to do. She no longer felt like she was missing out on something in life. Perhaps this had been her reason all along; to find love. Or maybe it wasn't her at all. Maybe she was just meant to help Draco Malfoy to love once and for all.

"Draco?" Her voice was growing weaker. "Can I ask something of you?"

Lifting his head, he nodded vigorously. "Anything, love."

Shifting, she picked up the stack of parchment she had been working on for days. Handing them to him, she sighed. "Can you please take this to Percy Weasley at the Ministry? He'll know what they are."

Nodding, he grabbed the papers and made to put them aside for later.

Hermione shook her head. "No, now, please."

"What? Why now?" He didn't want to leave her side ever again.

"It's important. Please?" Her voice was soft and hard to hear.

Sighing, he stood. "I'll be right back, love. I promise. It'll be a quick trip. You won't even miss me."

"Can I have one more favor before you go?"

He nodded.

"Kiss me?" She gave a small smile, full of love and humor.

Chuckling, he slid forward and kissed her thin lips again. As he stood again, he smiled. "Don't fall asleep."

Hermione gave a little laugh as he practically ran out of the room. Her heart ached as she listened to his fast paced steps. Oh, she wished she could have told him. But, how do you tell the love of your life something like that? Instead of berating herself, she kept repeating the same thing in her head over and over. It's all for the best. He would forgive her someday… Sighing, she finally gave into what she's been holding off. She was telling the truth when he asked if she was waiting for him; for she truly was. And now, after finally hearing his voice and seeing his beautiful face, she didn't have to wait anymore. Deep down, she had no regrets, but did wish this happened differently…

She wished he had known that was their last kiss…


	17. Epilogue

**((Writing this story was very emotional for me. I cried during almost every chapter and I really hope you all felt some form of emotion as well. Thanks to all of you for all the reviews and know that while the story might not end like you wanted, but it ended the way it should. Enjoy!))**

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

The warm blue sun shined down on everyone present. Soft Black Magic roses filled the area in every corner as Minerva McGonagall's voice filled the air. Sobbing people in black dresses and robes were tight together and trying to hear all her wise words. The closed, shining red coffin lay in front of the crowd. Only one row of seats sat next to the cold stone. It was those seats that held the heartbroken people that were the closest to the dearly departed. In those seats were the sobbing Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Harry Potter. Hermione parents were a mess; her mother barely able to sit upright even with her husband's arm around her. So many sad people were all around that even the world seemed like a sad place. Though the sun was out and there was not a cloud in the sky, it was a miserable day. Everyone around was silently wishing it was them and not her…

Yes. Hermione Granger would have been proud of her funeral.

Draco Malfoy stood away from the group, twenty feet away from the coffin. From the moment her parents told him that Hermione would be buried in a small muggle town, Draco knew he'd feel left out. Even with the family's request that he sit with them and her friends, he didn't feel wanted. Throughout the entire morning, Ron Weasley would glare his way, trying to make him feel uncomfortable. While it didn't work, it still made him feel put out. He had come to mourn the death of Hermione Granger just like the rest of them… and yet they treated him like a burden.

As McGonagall—who was clad in black robes with a black veil around her graying hair—finished her words with tears in her eyes, she whispered to the wind. "Hermione Granger, you are forever with us. We will be with you someday, but until then we know you will be with each and every one of us along the way. Goodbye, my dear."

The large group of people got into a line to lay their rose on her coffin lid. Draco watched Hermione's father pull her hysterical mother away from the gravesite. Walking up to the coffin, he wanted to cry when he saw all the plain red roses or pure white ones. Black Magic's were planted in bushes all around her tombstone, but that wasn't enough… she deserved to have one with her. Standing in the back of the long line, Draco waited until everyone in the graveyard was gone; walking back to their cars, portkeys, or apparation points. The now quiet, still grave left Draco feeling very alone… he always felt alone now.

After Hermione's quiet death a few days ago, he has refused to speak with anyone but his mother and Hermione's parents. Most thought he was just grieving, but that wasn't it. He was beating himself up. If he hadn't left her to deliver those bloody papers to Percy Weasley, she wouldn't have died alone. He would have been beside her, clutching her hand in his. It was he who found her, lying in bed with her eyes shut. At first, he thought she was asleep. It took him a moment to realize just how cold her hands were. Standing by her coffin now, his heart ached and he collapsed to the ground next to her coffin.

"Hermione, my love, I am so sorry. I should never have left you…" His voice came out choked as the tears fell.

He felt the wind blowing through his tousled hair, making him miss the footsteps coming from behind him. "She wanted to die alone."

His head snapped up and he wiped his face. That voice was to be forever burned into his mind. He didn't even turn his head to look at her. "What are you on about?"

Ginny took another step forward, close enough to touch his shaking shoulders. "During my last visit, she told me. Part of me thinks she knew it would be our last conversation," she gave a heartbreakingly sad laugh.

Draco noticed she was beating herself up as well. "She probably did."

"But, like I was saying; she wanted to die alone. She said she wanted our smiles not cries." Ginny's heart ached as Hermione's words vibrated in her memory.

'_That's how I want it to be, Gin. So many sad faces have come to see me since I was admitted that a nice and silent death would be the best for me. That way I won't take all your crying faces with me wherever I end up. I love you all too much for that. I want to remember those smiling faces of yours. That's what I want to take with me. Not your tears.'_

Draco gave a sad, breathy laugh. "Yes, that does sound like Hermione. She always was a bleeding heart that preferred silence to anything else."

"Indeed." Ginny's hand touched the cold coffin. "It's hard to believe she won't be here anymore…"

Draco looked up at her clear face. "How do you do it?"

She looked at him, slightly surprised. "Do what?"

"How can you not cry…? I can't seem to stop."

She sighed, kneeling next to him but not touching him. "I've cried so much in the past month that I think my tears are dry. But, that's not the reason why I'm not crying. I'm not crying because Hermione wouldn't want me to."

He just glanced at her and didn't say anything.

"Hermione didn't like to see anyone hurt. Crying just shows her how much we are hurting. She needs at least one strong person here. I owe her that much." Ginny's voice was quiet, almost inaudible.

Draco nodded his head. Red had a point, but he couldn't be strong right now. Maybe someday… but not now.

"Ginny? Mr. Malfoy?"

The two of them looked up in the direction of the voice. It was Percy.

"Can you two please meet me in the Headmistress' office in a few moments? I have something for you both." He nodded his head and walked away.

Ginny sighed and stood, kissing her hand before laying it against Hermione's coffin. "I love you, Mione. See you soon."

Draco watched her walk to her waiting family. Happy to be alone with his love once more, he stood and dried the tears off his face. Opening his jacket, he reached his hand into the inner pocket. Pulling out what he was looking for, he gave Hermione his infamous smirk.

"You saved my life, Hermione Granger. I just wish that I could've saved you in return." He opened the black box in his hand, pulling out the Black Magic Hermione had transformed from a leaf all that time ago. "I want you to have this back. I've kept it all this time because it reminded me of you. But, now I know it should be with you."

Waving his wand over the rose in the box, it disappeared and hopefully landed where he had intended. "Keep it in your hands, my love. It will never die, just like my love for you." Bending over, he laid a kiss on the red coffin. "I'll be with you someday. Wait for me."

He began to walk away to his apparation point. Reaching the spot behind the trees, he looked back one more time, whispering, "I love you," one more time to the wind before apparating to the school where they first met and fell in love.

* * *

Percy stood in front of the small group of people in McGonagall's office. "While you have all seen me visiting Hermione in the hospital, I was not there strictly for visits."

Draco looked around him, seeing Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, McGonagall, and Madam Pomphrey all scattered around him. He didn't understand why they were here, but he didn't ask. Remaining silent, he listened to the Weasley currently speaking.

"Upon her admittance to St. Mungo's, Hermione Granger asked me to act as her advocate to the Ministry of Magic. That basically means that I handled everything legally for her. However, that also means I'm in charge of her final Will and Testament."

Whispers and small sobs echoed around the room. Draco's throat caught as he realized what the redhead meant. All those papers Hermione had him deliver the day she died! They were her Will!

"She asked me to have all of you here when I read it. I ask that you do not interrupt as I read its contents and that upon hearing your section of the document that you exit the room. These are Hermione's wishes." He turned and grabbed a roll of parchment off the desk behind him.

Draco saw Harry grab onto Ginny's hand and Ron's arm. His heart tugged when he realized Hermione would never be there for him to grab her hand. She was _never _going to be here again…

Percy cleared his throat and started to read:

"_I, Hermione Jean Granger, declare that this document is legal as well as my dying will. Every word that is written shall be regarded and respected. I ask that no one question its contents, for you will be soiling my memory. We certainly cannot have that, can we?"_

Draco saw everyone laugh lightly at the last comment. Hermione always did have humor.

"_I would like to start off with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."_

Upon hearing their names, Molly Weasley started to cry hysterically. Mr. Weasley tried to calm her, signaling to their son to continue.

"_I always thought of you two like my second pair of parents. I love you both with all my heart and I hope that you will not forget me. I would like to leave you two with a scrapbook I have been keeping since I started Hogwarts. There are pictures for every year I was a student; most of them consisting of Harry, Ron, and myself along with the twins and Ginny. In the back there is a large section that I've made dedicated to Fred. Since you are family, I hope this will do."_

Percy placed the parchment back on the desk, lifting up a small bag next to it. Reaching his arm in, it was obvious the bad had an extendable charm on it, for his entire arm fit in. Finally, he pulled out a large scrapbook and handed it to his sobbing mother. Molly gripped it against her as the tears fell down her face it big drops. Arthur Weasley said thank you to his son and pulled his wife out of the room; trying to keep the tears from falling down his face in the process.

"_Next, is George Weasley."_

George sat up at his name.

"_George, my whimsical friend, I wish I could have gotten to know you better. I always did admire just how ingenious you and Fred were. With that being said, I have managed to speak to many high individuals in the wizarding world. The WWW is to be presented an award next year for __**Best Joke Shop **__in the wizarding world. Fred's name will, too, be honored."_

George's mouth dropped as he stood to grab the document Percy pulled out of the bag. He and Fred always spoke of getting this award when he was alive. Zonko's always won and now, thanks to Hermione, they finally did it. Oh, how he wished Fred was there to see this. As he turned to leave Percy called his name.

"_And George? I will be telling Fred how much you miss him."_

George nodded, allowing the tears to fill his eyes as he walked out of the room. Percy went back to the will.

"_To my darling Ronald."_

Ron's ears turned pink as his heart raced. There was no stopping the tears in his eyes.

"_While you were the last to know of my dire fate, I want you to know that you were always the hardest to tell. You were my first crush and my best friend. We might have argued, but I wouldn't trade that for the world. And for that, I leave you my favorite book, __**Hogwarts: A History**__.__**"**_

At first, Ron's mouth fell open. He couldn't believe that Hermione was leaving him a book when he didn't read at all. Though, as Percy handed him the think book, he couldn't stop himself from hugging it to himself. This was, after all, the book Hermione read the most.

"_Ron, don't worry. There's more."_

Ron's eyes snapped open; he hadn't even realized they were closed.

"_Inside the book is a letter just for you to read. But, there is a catch. It is charmed and will only be readable when you find the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. It's hard enough that I won't be physically at any wedding you may have. So, I left a letter for you to read the night before your wedding. I love you, Ron, I always have. I'm just sorry it wasn't the way you wanted it to be."_

Ron finally let the tears fall. He nodded his head and clutched the book tighter. Harry patted his shoulder as he stood and left the room. He was going to read this book, he was. Every night for the rest of his life.

"_And now, to Harry and Ginny."_

Ginny let out a sharp, short sob. Harry slid his chair closer, lowering his arm around her as they waited for what Hermione wrote for them.

"_I combined you two because that is how I always saw you: together. Harry, Ginny knew you were meant to be together from the moment she saw you. You didn't know it, but you had feelings for her since second year. I know you, Harry, better than I know anyone else. Ginny, you were my best girlfriend and my sister. I wish that I could be there to stand beside you as you marry each other. I wish I could be there when your children are born. But, I know that I can't. I will be there, but I will not be able to hug you and say how much I love you and that I know you'll be happy for the rest of your lives. And you will be. Trust me. And so, I leave you two the most special part of me: my wand."_

Percy presented them with her wand. Harry clutched the slender piece of wood in his hand as Ginny cried in his shoulder. His heart lurched and stuttered as Hermione's smiling face flashed through his mind. He moved the wand to rest over his heart. Hermione deserved to be here… probably more than anyone else.

"_Before you start questioning my motives, let me explain. I've charmed my wand to cast a spell on your wedding day. Ginny, when you are dressed in your wedding gown and ready to walk down the aisle, slide my wand into your bouquet. When your feet hit the aisle, a Patronus of me will erupt from my wand. I will be at your wedding, smiling and standing beside you. It will not disappear until you make your first kiss as husband and wife. I love you two. Be happy."_

Ginny was finally crying hysterically. She had managed to stay tough throughout the entire funeral, but this gift was worth more than anything else. Hermione would be at her wedding! She'd made it possible. Harry cried with his wife as they walked out of the room. He nodded at the remaining occupants as he shut the door behind him.

"_And now, I finish with Draco."_

Draco stared at the floor with his eyes closed. He tried to envision her speaking to him. He needed to or he would go insane.

"_Oh, Draco, the love of my life. How can you tell someone just how much they mean to you in a few words? Usually I know all the right things to say, but now I do not. But, I will say this: You were my reason, Draco. You were my reason for being a witch, for being me. I was meant to love you, I just never knew it. And now that I do, the only thing I regret is that we did not have the time to learn about that love, to study that love. Oh, how I wish we could have… it would have been beautiful. When writing my will, I knew straight away what to give to everyone, but you I found difficult. In the end, I settled for the best thing of all."_

Draco let his pain show without shame. There was no point in holding back. It was just him and Hermione in the room. Just the two of them…

"_I give you the sunrise, Draco. I give you the sunrise and sunset, I give you the breeze. But, more importantly, my love, I give you all of me. I give you my heart and my soul. I hope you walk through every day of your life seeing the beauty of the world, just as I did. Don't retreat from everyone like you did before, let people in. Love, Draco. There's nothing greater then loving others."_

Draco rested his hand over his eyes. Her image was fading in his mind and he didn't want her to go.

"_One more thing, my love. I left one more thing to you, but for that, I leave Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomphrey. They will explain. And with that, I end this Will and Testament. I thank Percy for all his help and I hope I will see you all someday. Signed, Hermione Jean Granger."_

Percy nodded his head. "That's all I had for you all. Thank you for your time and I will be owling the paperwork that I will need everyone to sign. Good day."

Draco heard him walk out the door, but he didn't look up from the floor. Hermione's image was gone from his mind, but her words were still there. So, he lifted his tear-stained face and looked at the older witches. There would be time for him to cry later. Right then, it was time to respect Hermione's wishes.

Madam Pomphrey spoke first. "At the wish of Miss Granger, I continued to make the potion to cure leukemia and cancers like it. The potion is to be completed and then evaluated in a month's time."

McGonagall took it from there. "Miss Granger requested that you be lead chairman with Poppy and me assisting when the potion comes out. She said she trusted no one better."

Draco looked at them stunned, unsure of what to say.

Poppy continued. "We would do most of the talking, but Hermione felt this would be a good opportunity for you. She said it would mean you were always thinking of her like she always thoughts of you."

Thinking, Draco couldn't say no. This was his chance to make a difference in the world; just like Hermione always wanted. "I'll do it."

"We know you'll need time to think about it, but we insis—"

"No, Professor, I need no time. I'll do it. I'll do it for Hermione." His voice was firm, showing he was sticking to his decision.

McGonagall's eyes widened. "Oh, well, that's a relief. I expected that you would want to think it over, but thank you. Hermione would be very proud." The Headmistress had unshed tears sparkling behind her eyes. Hermione always was her favorite pupil.

Draco nodded. "She **is **proud. I can feel it." And he could.

Poppy and Minerva smiled as he nodded in their direction and headed to the door. As he went to close the door behind him, Poppy's voice stopped him.

"And Draco?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I have one more request."

He nodded for her to continue.

"You see, I would very much like to name the potion after Hermione. But, it can't just be Hermione. Do you have any ideas as to what it can be called?" Her voice cracked as she said the wonderful girl's name. She was really going to miss her.

Draco had a soft smile spread across his face as he realized he had the perfect name. Hermione's parents had told him several stories about Hermione and he had loved every one of them. Now, he could honor her name some more. "I do believe I know the perfect name."

Madam Pomphrey smiled slightly. "What would that be?"

He smiled as her face appeared in his mind again, a Black Rose shimmering in her hair.

"Mimi's Black Rose."


	18. UPDATE!

**Hello, dear readers of mine.**

**First off, let me begin by saying thank you to you all. You have made writing this series so wonderful and I am in tears thinking of how much you all mean to me. I couldn't have asked for better fans and I thank the universe everyday for you all. Thank you.**

**Secondly, here is a new update. I know that I have taken quite a long absense from writing my stories and for that I am sorry. It has been a rocky road for me and it took me a while to bounce back. But, I have and I intend to stay for good. In a gesture to show that I am indeed back, I want you to know this::**

****I have officially published **_**Harry's Dream Rose**_**. It should but up for viewing any time now and I hope you are all pleased with it. It took me a long time to write, for it is much longer then any of the other oneshots. Harry's story just had to be told.**

****Secondly, I have been slaving over **_**Draco's Garden Roses**_** for a while now and it is coming along famously. However, this one is painful for me to write, for it is the last one in this series. Not only does Draco feel so much emotion and sorry, but he also has gone through a lot of healing. How does one put all of that emotion into one story? While this is a complicated question, I want you all to know that I am working my hardest to make it perfect. **

**The **_**Mimi's Black Rose **_**series will certainly end with everything is started with. Love, loss, and healing. **

**With that being said, I hope to hear from you guys soon. And even though this series is almost over, I never want to lose my readers. I consider you all friends and family. And if you ever wish to speak with me, don't hesitate. I will respond.**

**With All My Love;**

**xxSammyxx**


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